The Blood Letter
by Skyselisse
Summary: He could not stop thinking about her, Hermione Granger. Draco Malfoy knew it: He was obsessed. He was completely obsessed with her. He didn't know how, when or why, all he knew was that he suddenly felt the need to have her, to possess her. He wanted to keep her as his most precious treasure; he wanted her to belong to him and to him only. She was his.
1. Prologue

**Hiiii! :D So, well, here's a Dramione story! This will be kinda dark; so if that's not your cup of tea, just don't read! All right, you've been warned! :D **

**Please note I'm German and that English is my second language, so… there will probably be some minor mistakes. Still, I hope you like it! **

**Enjoy your reading! **

**The Blood Letter**

**Prologue**

~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…

_Happiness? Love? _

HA!

Those words weren't words Draco was familiarized with. He was an expert with words like blood status, muggle, magic, hate, darkness, sorrow, loneliness, bitterness, anger, and danger…

…_And also Granger_.

Granger, Granger, Granger!

Yes, Granger seemed to be everywhere lately. Everywhere at Hogwarts, everywhere in Hogsmeade and everywhere on his mind! He could not stop thinking about her, Hermione Granger.

…That beautiful Muggleborn witch named Hermione Granger!

There really was something about that name, wasn't there? There was something… Hermione… Her-mi-o-ne Gran-ger… Hermione Granger. Granger Hermione.

GODS, GRANGER!

Draco Malfoy knew it: He was obsessed. He was completely obsessed with her. With her perfect curvy body. With her beautiful facial features. With her coffee brown eyes. With her curly brown hair. He was obsessed with Hermione Granger.

He didn't know how, when or why, all he knew was that he suddenly felt the need to have her, to possess her. He wanted to keep her as his most precious treasure; he wanted her to belong to him and to him only.

She was _his_.

Just… There were some nuisances in his way and they had names: Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley. Both of them had always been way close to his Hermione. Maybe they had even been way _too_ close: Both of these guys had the actual nerve to hug her, or sometimes even _kiss_ her on her cheek.

And he didn't like that, because Hermione Granger was _his_.

The blonde was _aware_ of the fact that nobody knew about his crush. And it wasn't as if he wanted anyone to know – But he would make sure they learned to not touch what wasn't theirs. And of course, he'd do it without anybody noticing. After all, he _was_ the Dark Lord's heir, and such Dark Lord was teaching him how to control his dark magic.

He knew he had always been one of the best wizards at Hogwarts, but he really had to admit he was improving his skills a lot more ever since he started to train with him: Wandless magic had become much easier and potions were now a children's game to him. He just had to keep practicing so he could become more powerful than Voldemort was, so that, when the Dark Lord was unaware, he could just stab him from behind.

Yes, Draco wanted to betray his trust, in a certain way. His reasons were simple: Lord Voldemort had marked him with that ugly Dark Mark. He had promised he wouldn't harm anyone if he let him mark his forearm and still… That bastard had had the nerve to kill his mother in front of his eyes as he had ordered his father to reduce his mother into ashes. Ever since, his fear for him had been developing into a very powerful hate. Just, he didn't let him notice: Draco had learned to cover his feelings with a neutral mask, so every time the Dark Lord trained him he could contain himself from attempting to kill him and fail at it. So, for now, he took all the profit he could from everything the Dark Lord was teaching him, while he let his hate grow within him. He knew he would kill him one day. But he wanted to do so when _that day_ had come. And he could sense it… The day was near. _Very_ near.

But during the time he waited, he decided he would be rather busy with the Golden Trio. He would be busy with _getting Hermione Granger, his Princess, to himself._

And he _knew for sure _he was going to get her.

Because, what a Malfoy wants, a Malfoy gets.

Everything he needed now was a plan. A plan and loads of patience, because he knew Hermione Granger was stubborn and her friends were very persistent.

Especially Harry Potter. The 'Boy-Who-Just-Wouldn't-Fucking-Die'. There were no words at all to describe how he despised him: Even though he wasn't a pureblooded wizard and even though he wasn't as good as Draco was in magical skills, Harry Potter had always been the favorite one. Harry Potter this, Harry Potter that, Harry Potter here, Harry Potter there.

Weasley really didn't bother him that much. He was just a foolish idiot that also dared touch what wasn't his, but Draco easily could get rid of him: Since the Weasleys lived from the little amounts of money Lucius Malfoy gave them every month, Draco could just talk to his father and tell him to stop. Like this, the Weasleys would not make it with only Arthur's income, so they would have to find some other things to focus on for their own survival. And that included the redheaded idiot to focus on something else than Hermione.

So no. Ronald Weasley didn't bother Draco Malfoy as much as Harry Potter did.

As he had already thought, Potter just was everywhere. Here, there, now and then.

Gosh!

What about Draco Malfoy? Was he really destined to be Harry Potter's shadow? Even though he was a better wizard? Even though he was a pureblood? Even though he was in the highest wizard's society all around England? In comparison to him, Harry Potter was _nothing! Absolutely nothing!_ And he would prove it to him, even if that meant he had to take some drastic measures, like, for example…

_Murder._

Yes, he had been considering murder for a long time: If he killed him, Draco would no longer be his shadow. And that would make a lot of things much easier for him: It would be easier to spy on Dumbledore; it would be easier to fulfill his mission to kill him. And of course, it would be so much easier to get Granger…

And once he got her, ah…!

Once he got her he would know what happiness was. And maybe, just maybe, love, too.

~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…

**SO! Here you go, a Prologue! :D Don't worry, my next chapters will be longer, promise! I'm just giving you an easy start ;) **

**Please, review! :) **

**Favs and follows are also very much appreciated! :) **


	2. Welcoming sensation

**Wow! Thank you very much for all the favs, follows and reviews! :D Do I get some more on this chapter, pretty pleaseeeee? With sugar on top? :3 haha :D **

**Enjoy your reading! **

**The Blood Letter**

**Chapter I: Welcoming sensation.**

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The Astronomy Tower had become his favorite place. He knew why: He could see everything from up there. He could see everyone as a simple ant, a simple _slave_. And he liked it. He liked it very much. Because that made him feel like he had the complete control over all those little wizards.

_Oh, yes. It was a very welcoming sensation. _

It was like picturing himself in a near future: Voldemort would be dead and he would conquer England and soon the entire world. And most importantly, he would conquer _Hermione Granger._

His lips drew something really close to a smile: Ah, yes. His Hermione. His sweet and innocent Hermione. Whenever he saw her smile he thought he felt love… And whenever he saw her with those two idiots he thought he felt obsession.

Just, how could he distinguish between one thing and the other?

He smirked to himself with certain arrogance. He wouldn't have to distinguish between that much longer. Because he already had his masterpiece prepared. He only needed to put it into practice, and then…

…_Hermione Granger would be his. _

It was just a matter of time.

~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~

Hermione Granger cursed under her breath… _again._

She had tried to begin with that conversation four times already, but had failed at it every single time.

The reason? Brown. Lavender Brown.

It seemed to be that that silly girl didn't exactly notice when people didn't wish for her to be there: Even though people politely coughed for her to leave, she seemed to choose to ignore them and be totally focused on Ron: Whenever he spoke, whenever he smiled, whenever he laughed and even whenever he ate, he had her fully attention. And for the love of God, she even looked at him whenever he blurted!

Ugh! Disgusting, really!

But that was not really the thing that bothered Hermione most. It was rather the fact that the Golden Trio was talking about something important. And Ron wasn't even concentrated on that because Lavender was there. And she was _cuddling_ with him, and _kissing_ him, and…!

And he was responding!

_Ugh, ugh, ugh! _

She stood up abruptly, picked her things up, glared at the couple and made her way to leave the Great Hall. If Ron couldn't contain himself from cuddling with Lavender while they were discussing some important matters, then she also didn't have to take things seriously.

"Hermione, where are you going?" Harry asked, "We're in the middle of a-"

Hermione huffed. In the middle of 'a conversation'.

_Seriously?_

"Harry, we're in the middle of _nothing._" She spat, "Don't you see Ron and Lavender are busy with eating each other mouths?"

Harry looked at them shortly and made a face. Ron and Lavender were _not_ eating each other's mouths; they were more likely eating each other's _faces_.

'Couldn't they just pick a room, or something?' he thought in disgust. 'Yuck!'

He cleared his throat as he looked back at Hermione, who had her arms crossed upon her chest and was frowning.

"Well, but I'm sure he was listening and-"

She sighed out of exasperation.

"Harry, _please_. Ron, listening? I bet he can't enlist you the last few things we´ve been talking about for these last fifteen minutes."

"Hermione-"

"-No! He's actually here to cooperate, but he's not even paying attention to what we're saying! I fail to see what's the point in continuing this talk in here, where people that have _nothing_ to do about this can hear us, while we eat and while he's making out in front of everybody!" She almost yelled, "So, Harry, I'm really sorry, but if he's not willing to cooperate, then fine! Me neither. It's as simple as that."

"Her-"

"I'll see you later, Harry."

Hermione turned her back to Harry, took a few angry steps towards the door and suddenly slowed her pace, somehow waiting for Ron to react. Waiting for him to push Lavender aside, call her name, go after her and hug her tightly.

She turned around and bitterly chuckled. Nothing had changed: Ron was hugging Lavender even tighter and kissing her neck, leaving a hickey in there. She giggled and laughed, and stupidly said 'Oh, Won-Won, that tickles!'. Hermione looked back to the exit door, sighed and felt her eyes go all watery; they even threatened to shed a tear. But she shook her head, took up with her quick steps again and finally left the Great Hall.

'You're not jealous, Hermione.' She thought, 'You know you're not.'

But deeply inside, Hermione knew she was. And she was furious with herself for that. Because she liked Ron and she didn't want to like him that way. She wanted to like him like she always had: She wanted to like him as his best friend and as his kind of older brother, but nothing more. And still, her heart and her feelings played with her and made her like him, almost _love_ him.

And boy, it wasn't fair.

…Because she liked him. Very much, even. And he… Well, he didn't seem to like her back _that_ way. And it hurt. It hurt badly. Because she cared _so much_ and he didn't even see it. He didn't _care_.

He was completely blind.

And she sometimes just wished she was as well.

And with that thought, she shed a tear.

~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…

Draco was twirling his wand between his long, pale fingers. He was thinking about what the Dark Lord had said… It was quite interesting, considering he was his heir.

'_The Unforgivable Potion'_, the Dark Lord had told him with his icy voice. It seemed to be that a part from not having any kind of smell, taste or color, that potion apparently accorded to the maker's wishes and no one else's.

_Interesting. Hooking, really._

An evil smile crossed his face, revealing his bad intentions.

So, that meant… He could just brew it, think of a wish, and then use it on someone? That sounded ridiculously perfect. He just had to let Potter drink the potion and wish for him to be his little, harmless pet for a while. And then, when the moment had come, he would kill him as painfully as it went.

Because, he had already stated it: Draco Malfoy would not be Harry Potter's shadow. Draco Malfoy would be Harry Potter's _murderer._

_And there was that welcoming sensation once again._

It was like a kind of a satisfaction he felt. It was like he had reached something he had longed for a long, long time. And yes, it did feel warm, in a way. Warm and ticklish, it was a pleasant feeling.

Just as pleasant as the feeling he would feel once he held Hermione in his strong arms.

Ah, his Hermione. His beautiful, belle Hermione. He could already picture her naked, kissing him hotly and passionately and moving under his body, screaming his name with her sweetest voice over and over again.

_Draco, oh Draco!_

He could already feel the warmth and the softness of her delicate skin as he touched her. And he would make sure her skin burned just as if someone had set fire on it. He would make sure she screamed his name and only his, he would make sure he was the only man on her mind.

_DRACO!_

His eyelids closed, his lips opened up, letting his tongue caress them gently. It was such a delicious image: He saw her curls; they were covering the whole pillow. He saw her facial expression; her features were lost in the hottest passion: Her chocolate eyes were shut; unable to open because of the wave of pleasure she was feeling. Her round mouth was wide open; unable to close because she had to moan and scream his name, she had to express the unbelievable pleasure she was feeling. She had to _beg_.

_FUCK, DRACO, PLEASE! MORE, MORE! FASTER! HARDER! _

He felt a shiver running down his spine as he felt his erection grow. His eyes popped open and so the picture of his naked Hermione disappeared. He looked down at his trousers: There was a big lump between his legs that threatened to come out if he didn't do something about it. He smirked. His hand would take care of it that time, but he knew Hermione would be the one taking care of it soon enough.

He left the Astronomy Tower, knowing he would come back the day after. Just to feel that overwhelming sensation of control, of _power_ over the others. Because it was so damn…

_Welcoming._

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**Yay! Chapter One's up! **

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**I hope you liked this chapter! **** I promise I will be making them longer, just, I want to give you an easy start :D (Besides, I need to get more ideas :D haha) **

**See you on next chappieeee! **

**Thanks for reading guys, YOU ROCK! :D **


	3. A little taste

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**The Blood Letter**

**Chapter II: A little taste**

~…~…~…~…~…~

Another day had begun at Hogwarts and Dumbledore thought it was a perfect day for welcoming a new potions professor.

And that had caught Draco's full attention.

The ancient man wasn't tall. He wasn't fat, but he wasn't thin either: He had that typical senior torso that a man got in his older years when he hadn't practiced any kind of sport in his early times.

He had some hair, rather curly. And probably, the hair color had been dark brown, maybe even black. It really wouldn't have combined with his eyes' color: emerald green. Black was the color of Death, the color of Evil. And Green, to its contrast, was the color of Justice. Symbolically, those two colors just didn't fit together. But who knew… Maybe Slughorn had had something to do with the Dark Side in his earlier years… Maybe even with the Dark Lord himself.

_Oh, if Draco only knew… _

His dangerous, icy, grey eyes suddenly shone with evilness as the old man introduced himself in front of the whole students: Horace Slughorn, Master of Potions back in his time. He had worked at Hogwarts and also at the Ministry of magic, his specialization had had everything to do with Dark Magic skills.

Draco had to contain himself from smiling like a psychopath: It was utterly perfect. Horace Slughorn would be of real help: He would not only help him with the Unforgivable Potion, he would also help him with some other potions he had heard of. Like, for example… _Felix Felicis, also known as Liquid Luck. Amortentia, known as the Love Potion. And Veritaserum, known as the Truth Potion. _

And the best part was, he couldn't deny his offer: It was either Slughorn willingly accepting the demand of helping him, or it was Draco cursing the professor under the _Imperio _curse. And event though the first option was more affable for him, because McGonagall happened to be really good at guessing if someone was cursed or not, he would probably decide for the second option: He would be cursing Slughorn so it was easier for him to manipulate his mind. It was his way of… _ensuring_ his chances of perfecting his masterpiece.

The question was how he'd do it. Cursing a teacher was risky; even more if the curse was an Unforgivable. Besides, he could be discovered as the Death Eater he had become. And that would mean one thing: _Azkaban._

And he wouldn't be going to Azkaban. Not _ever_.

He frowned. His mind was at its best thinking power while he planned how to get Slughorn cursed without him getting involved in the situation. He searched with his eyes; he looked at every object on the table, he discretely looked at everyone in that Hall. Every student, every teacher… There had to be someone that could help him out–

–Wait. Black robes, black hair, dark eyes… _And a Dark Mark hiding under his left sleeve. _

_Severus. Snape._

The blonde smirked. His dearly beloved Godfather had sworn to his mother he'd protect Draco with his life: He had made the Unbreakable Vow. So that meant, if something bad happened to Draco, Snape would suffer the consequences.

_Marvelous!_

Now everything he had to do was _ask. _He just had to kindly ask Snape to put a spell on Slughorn! And if he refused, he just could blackmail him into doing it: It would be either him or his life. And since Draco _knew_ how much Snape appreciated his own life, Snape wouldn't have any choice but to obey Draco's wishes.

Snape would obey, Slughorn would be cursed, Draco would get his potions, his masterpiece would work perfectly, he would get his Hermione and everyone else would be either happy… _or dead_.

And even though Draco knew it would be a long process, he still thought it was as easy as snapping his fingers.

'How to conquer the world in four simple steps, by Draco Malfoy.' He thought with arrogance.

He shot a look at Severs Snape; lightly raising his eyebrows and saw he looked back, a kind of suspiciousness shining in the brown of his eyes.

~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…

The muscles of his back tensed completely up.

Snape _knew_ that look. He perfectly knew what he had to understand when he saw Draco's icy, greyish eyes shine with that arrogance and danger. He could just see Draco's look was intense, demanding, in a way. And he had to admit, it frightened him a little: Whatever the kid had on mind, it wasn't good.

It frightened him, because even though Snape was an expert at Legilimency, he had never been able to really _read_ Draco's mind. He had been able to barely _tell_ whether if his intentions were good or bad, but he had never been right at guessing _what_ he was up to. And that scared him sometimes.

He never broke eyes contact with him. He just kept staring at him, seeing how Draco slightly nodded with his head, his facial features showing superiority. It was confident, _too_ confident. Snape shook his head, telling him no to whatever he was supposed to understand. He _really_ didn't like that rarely shown self-confidence of his.

Severus closed his eyes. And still, he could even _feel_ him chuckle arrogantly. He frowned: That little brat needed to get taught some manners.

He opened his eyes, just about to mouth something, but…

…Draco had already disappeared from the Great Hall.

~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…

Hermione was walking through the corridors that led to her favorite part of the castle: The library. She had borrowed some very special books the day before, just to forget she had been upset. Of course, she had read the two of them within a night. But, what else could she do? Those were _Hogwarts, A History, _a book she had read over a thousand times and still didn't get tired of it, and _Cinderella, _a book that reminded her that, someday, her blue prince would come along.

It didn't have to be Ron… Not necessarily.

_Right?_

She sighed as books were held even more tightly against her chest, a soft, rather sad smile drawn on her face. And so she stepped into the library, not knowing what surprise would await her in there.

~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~

Ever since he got so obsessed with her, Draco got to know which were her favorite places all around the castle. There was the Gryffindor Tower; her favorite spot was the common room. There was the Room of Requirement; a place she went whenever she wanted to be left alone for a while every time she felt homesick. And then, there was the library, of course.

After many times following her to her secret spot, and after being there on his own, Draco seemed to finally understand why his Princess Hermione spent so much time at the library. The library wasn't just a simple place for doing homework. It was much more to her: There were _books._ Many books that smelled of old paper, of ancient wood. Alone the smell made that place comfortable.

But those books had been close friends to her; they were like a kind of safety. They had been there during her first year, in which even Potty and the Weasel treated her like the annoying Know-It-All she was. They had been there when she read and cried at the same time. They had been there to tell her beautiful fairy and princesses tales that always had a happy ending. And most important thing, those books had been there every time she felt comforted by all those beautiful written words that caused her to smile.

Those books also had been a kind of a font of security to her. Whenever she needed pieces of information, she knew she just had to take a book, open and read. She knew a book would not deny her anything. As he had rightly stated, books were Hermione's best friends.

But to become her best friend, Draco had to hurt one of her favorite books. So he took it from the shelf, ripped the last page, folded it cautiously and tucked it into his pocket.

He leisurely put the book back into the shelf as he heard some steps coming near.

Draco closed his eyes and inhaled. It was her; there was no doubt. Her sweetest scent gave her away. French Vanilla and African cinnamon, a tune of milk chocolate and coconut. Delicious, it made his mouth water.

"Wh– Malfoy? What are you doing here?"

The sound of her tender voice made him open his eyes. There she was. And gosh, she looked beautiful: Her new uniform adapted even more to her delicious corporal curves, giving her a very sexy touch. Her definite curls were falling down her shoulders; her angelical face was as bright as the light of the stars. She looked as if she had been made for him.

And she was made for him, _indeed._

So, why hesitate?

He only took two big, rapid steps towards her and roughly pushed her against one of the shelves.

Both, Draco and Hermione heard the sound of the books falling onto the floor.

He then leant in and held her delicate chin with one hand. He grabbed a fist full of her brown curls in the other one, lightly pulling.

Draco heard her heart beating rapidly and aggressively; he heard her lungs panting heavily.

"Hello, Beautiful." He said in a low voice, almost in a dangerous whisper, "I was waiting for you."

"Malf-"

Draco sucked on her neck hungrily, leaving a hickey; and making her moan out loud, not allowing her to end her phrase.

Draco knew he hadn't conquered Hermione Granger yet. He was just having a little taste of what was _his_ and _his only._

"It's Draco, sweetness. Not 'Malfoy'. And we're going to have lots of fun in here. But, you know… This is a _library_. And we can't take the risk to be way too loud in here. What would Mme. Pince say if she caught us, hmm?" He said, as he licked the helix of her ear, "_Silencio!_"

And with that, Hermione was quiet.

And with that, Draco smirked and kissed her hotly.

_After all, he was just having a little taste._

~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…

**SO! Chapter two's up! :D yaaay! :D **

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	4. A brilliant mind

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**Enjoy your reading!**

**The Blood Letter**

**Chapter III: A brilliant mind.**

~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…

Draco broke the kiss after having savored her sweet mouth, after having had his taste. Her breath tasted like coffee and sugar: it was bittersweet. Her lips were soft and tender, inviting him to kiss her again. And he was tempted, indeed he was. But he decided against it: It was _story time._ After all, they were at the library, weren't they?

The hand that was holding her chin went down to wrap her waist. The other one that had grabbed her hair loosened its grip to caress Hermione's cheek with a creepiness that frightened her.

Hermione's gaze was completely focused on Draco's grey eyes: His icy, dangerous grey was melting because of the heat of his desire. And her brown eyes were nothing against it: They revealed instability. They revealed shock and astonishment. They revealed something close to cluelessness. And that made her vulnerable, even though she was a Gryffindor and was supposed to be brave.

Her gaze suddenly focused on how Draco's lips formed an evil smirk.

"Why, how, or when. I know that is what's going through your mind right now. Well, let me answer that question, Sweetness." He said as his hand started caressing her lips, "_How would I know when it's you that bewitched me?_ You! Out of all people, it had to be _you._ A Muggleborn. Ironic… isn't it?"

His pale thumb played with Hermione's under lip, pulling it down a little bit so he could feel the wetness of her recently kissed lips.

"But still… There _is_ a story. I've entitled it Madness. Because it was mad that a filthy mudblood like you could be doing this _to me_." He whispered, "Let's begin, shall we?"

With those words, he pulled her in for a kiss, but still stopped before there could be any lip contact. Draco just wanted to feel her anxious breaths on his own lips, degusting the warmth of them.

"Once upon a time, a Mudblood." He started, his lips brushing hers as he talked, "And once upon a time, a Pureblood. Their names were Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy. They hated each other; they had their reasons to do so. But one day, Draco didn't know what day it was, not the month and not the year, because he was unconscious: He had been thrown into the black lake's freezing water."

Her breaths were turning heavier by the second. They hit Draco´s lips, warming them up. And he didn't seem like he would ever have enough of it.

"The black lake has always been known for being a monster's home. Most fearful marine creatures live in there, and they always wait up for someone to fall in their waters so that they get something to _eat_."

Draco started brushing Hermione´s lips with his own, sometimes even kissing and sucking hard on them. He was enjoying what was _his and his only._

"But someone saved Draco. Someone saved Draco from getting eaten and someone saved him from drowning."

Hermione instantly shook her head, as if she wanted to tell him she hadn't been the one to save him. She really didn't know if he would be able to understand her since he had put her under a Silencio, but contrary to her presumptions, he did. He did, and instead of getting angry, something she had rather expected; he humorlessly laughed.

"Shh, sweetheart. He knew she wasn't there to save him. But casually, he happened to know where she was and what she was doing, even though he was unconscious." He stated matter-of-factly, "She was with her two annoying best friends, the Weasel and Saint Potter… And, oh. Brown, too. And guess what, Princess: Weasley and Brown were making out in front of her eyes. And she felt ignored… _you _felt ignored. And not only Weasley chose to ignore you, Potter did as well. Your so-called _friends_. Where were they right then? With you? Or rather… _against you?_"

'Stop it!' She mouthed. He just laughed bitterly.

"I'm not stopping it, Sweetness. Where was the Potter you used to know? The 'oh so sweet one, the one who cared'? Was he there? I presume he was _not_. His body was there, but not his soul. He ignored you, too. Just like the Weasel did."

'STOP!' She mouthed again.

"Where are your friends when you really need them?" he mocked, "At the library? In the books? _Where were they? With whom?_"

Her eyes opened widely, as she realized _he was right_. Harry and Ron had chosen Lavender over her, even though they barely knew her back in that time! They had been absolutely careless about her feelings, they had-

–Wait, _no!_ Ron and Harry were her friends! Ron and Harry cared about her!

She tried to look away, but he grabbed her chin, forced her to look at him, and kissed her roughly, punishingly, biting her lips hard, tasting the sweet blood that ran out of them.

"And you…" he accused between his rough kisses, "You didn't want him to ignore you. You wanted him to kiss _you._"

Draco started kissing her even rougher. He leant further in, obliging her to rely her back on the bookshelf uncomfortably; his lips not only devouring her mouth, but also parts of her cheeks, while he forced his tongue deep inside her mouth, sucked on her tongue and bit hard on it. And even though she was under the silencing spell, he could have sworn he'd heard her moan.

He broke the kiss once again and menacingly looked into her coffee eyes.

"Well, guess what, Princess. _I_ am kissing you now. And from now on, I'll be the only one you'll be kissing."

She mouthed a 'why', tears in started forming in her eyes.

"You should be asking the right questions, lovely. Like, what happened to me? Come on, mouth it."

She bit her lip in hesitation. Should she do it? Should she ask? And in case she asked, did she even want to know the answer? Did she even–

"I'm waiting." The impatience in his voice was quite remarkable.

She sighed in resignation.

'What happened to you?' She said voicelessly, careful that he was able to read her lips.

Draco bitterly chuckled and stirred a sick laugh.

"Everything I know is that I woke up in my bed. I was under my blankets, totally naked. When I started to stretch my arms and legs, I noticed there was a letter on my nightstand." He explained, sweet danger echoed his voice, "And, you know, I've always been a curious man, so I decided to open it: I read a name, written with dark red blood."

'Hermione' She mouthed in full shock.

"Exactly, love. Well guessed." He smirked, "Still… You're not fully mine yet, and I don´t have time to make you mine just now. I have some things to do before I claim you. "

With that, he kissed her on the lips softly; pulled away, lifted the curse, and his low voice muttered a whisper.

"But this I promise you, Princess: _I'll have you in the end_."

And with a last chaste kiss on the cheek, Draco snapped his fingers and he was gone, leaving his speechless Hermione alone at the library, with many, many questions bothering her mind.

~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~

_Lily. Oh, Lily. Why has fate been so cruel? _

Every time Snape would leave the Great Hall, he would go straight to his office, open the shelf and take Lily's picture out of it. And every time he'd take it, he would kiss the picture her softly on the lips.

And then he would wonder…

_Lily. Oh, Lily. Why has fate been so cruel? _

He would recall the whole story, from the very beginning, when he saved her from her sister's wrath calling her a freak. He would recall the first time he saw her incredible eyes. He would recall all the times they had went out together having fun.

Yet again…

He would also remember all the times he saw her with James Potter. Dancing, hugging and kissing him. And he remembered, oh he remembered. He remembered the pain it caused him to even see her, knowing James had been with her and knowing he hadn't any chance with her.

And still, he loved her like a madman: He had put his life at stake for his little mudblood, for his little Lily. He had risked his life to protect her from the Dark Lord, and still he had failed at it: He clearly remembered the night he went to the Potter's just to check if she was alright: Instead of a living, sane Lily, he'd found her corpse.

And then, within bitter tears forming in his eyes, he would wonder, again, and again, and again:

_Lily. Oh, Lily. Why has fate been so cruel? _

He would recall every single detail, every single morning. But apparently, someone decided to appear in the middle of his ritual.

Snape quickly hid his beloved picture again.

"Haven't your parents taught you to _knock_ on the door before coming into a room?" His godfather asked in annoyance.

"Excuse you me, where are my manners?" he mocked arrogantly, as he stepped toward his table and knocked three times, "Knock, knock, knock, my dearest Godfather. It is I, Draco."

"Arrogance is not a virtue, Draco."

"It depends on the use of it. Using it correctly, one can achieve lots of things." Draco stated, "Lots of things… like these things I have on mind."

And there was that mercury look again. The look Severus couldn't read. It irritated him, actually. He hated it when he couldn't use Legilimency on other wizards to see their intentions!

Snape raised and eyebrow questioningly.

"Things… you have on mind? Enlighten me."

The blonde chuckled as he started walking around Snape, his gaze never leaving his manly figure.

"This new professor… Slughorn, I believe was his name? He has introduced himself today as a potions master-"

"-I am aware of that, Draco. I was there, too."

"And you're the one to talk about virtues. He mocked. It really amused him to see how he easily could get on his nerves, " It really is not a virtue to interrupt, Severus, my dear Godfather. Now, as I was saying… He's a potion master. And _I_ happen to be very interested in some potions."

"Oh?" He asked, "What are those potions you're so interested in?"

Draco lifted his arms in the air, in a mocking, yet also annoyed motion.

"And there we are with virtues again!" he exclaimed, "Too much curiosity is _not_ a virtue, Severus."

"Stop mocking me, Draco." He warned, "It is very unbecoming."

"Thank you very much for your kind piece of advice, _mother_. I'll note that one. Now, back to Slughorn. I need you to do me a favor."

"And what exactly makes you think I'll do any favor to _you_?" Snape huffed.

Draco smirked.

"Two things: First, you're my godfather. And second… The Unbreakable Vow you've made to my mother."

"That doesn't imply me doing you any favors, Draco. I swore to protect you, not to be your servant."

"It does in this case."

"Oh, really, you don't say. How so?" He tried to mock.

"Manners, Severus. _Manners_."

"Spit it out already."

"Fine, fine. As you wish. "He said, lazily. "I need you to cast the Imperius curse on Slughorn for me. And since it's so risky for me… I mean, I could get _caught_ and be sent to Azkaban for it."

"You would deserve it, Draco. Besides, my life would only be at stake when yours was."

"And who says it would be not? May I remind you how many cases of suicide have been given at Azkaban? A part from losing my sanity in there, I could even choose to lose my life."

"You wouldn't–"

"Oh, wouldn't I? Well, I beg to differ. If I got caught and sent to Azkaban until I loose sanity _because you weren't there to protect me_, then I think I would. Because, Severus. If I paid the prize for my crime with my life, _you too._"

Snape frowned. He didn't really like where this was going.

"Is this about your interest in these potions you've just talked me about?"

"It may… have something to do with it, yes." He stated with a complete neutral glare.

The professor looked at him with suspicious eyes. Whatever Draco was planning to do… It wouldn't have any good consequences. He already knew it wouldn't. Not precisely for him, but for all other people: Snape knew Draco had a brilliant mind, and he feared him sometimes for it.

"Draco," he called his name carefully, trying to really read his mind again, "_What_ do you need these potions for?"

Draco smirked at him, taking his time to have his evil laughter and frighten him. He then leant to mutter smooth words into his ear; making sure his cold breath would cause a shiver to run through Snape's spine.

"This, my dear Severus, it's _none _of your business. But since your life it's a stake… you have no other choice but to play_ my_ game and adhere to _my_ rules. And my rules say, you need to set him under the Imperius curse as soon as possible, giving the order to obey me and _only me_." He clarified, "Am I understood?"

Severus felt sweat forming in the palms of his hands, running down his trembling fingers.

He swallowed.

"Yes, Draco."

"Good. Now, if you'll excuse me… I have some Quidditch practice to do."

And instead of apparating away, like all the other times, Draco stepped towards the door. As he wanted to close it behind him, he stopped.

"Oh, and Severus… It _really_ is unbecoming to always try to use Legilimency on people, especially on your own godson. Please! Learn some manners, will you? They're a… how was it called, again? Oh, yes – A virtue."

And with that, Draco shut the door behind him.

~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…

**YYYYYESSSSSSS! A LONGER CHAPTER FULL OF ANGST! YYYYYESSSS! Hahahah :D **

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	5. Truths and Lies

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**The Blood Letter**

**Chapter IV: Truth and Lies. **

~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~

"OI, POTTER!" Draco yelled, "YOUR GRYFFINDORK TIME'S UP! GET YOUR SORRY ASSES OFF THE BROOMS AND SHOVE OFF, I DON'T WANT TO WASTE MY TIME WATCHING YOUR PATHETIC QUIDDITCH TRAININGS!"

Harry Potter rolled his eyes as he saw the blonde and told his team that practice was over. All his team obeyed, heading to the exit, ready to leave. But Harry Potter went straight to Draco Malfoy, who just stood there, smirking.

"Clean that sodding smirk off of your face, Malfoy. You're going to lose this battle." Harry menaced, "And by 'battle', I don't just mean Quidditch."

Draco bitterly chuckled. Maybe he would lose the Quidditch match, which, by the way, was highly improbable. But he definitely wouldn't be losing their own battle: Snape had already agreed to curse Slughorn, so basically, now it was just a matter of time to get that old master to brew him the Unforgivable Potion.

"And what, praise tell, could you be referring to, other than this Quidditch match coming up tomorrow?"

Harry's green sparky eyes narrowed as he glared at him dangerously. Draco just shrugged at that.

"Don't you dare fake this kind of innocence, Malfoy, you know what I'm referring to." He said, "We both know what you are."

"No, really", he continued mocking, "I don't have a clue what you're talking about, Potter. So, would you just care to be a bit more precise? And quicker, too. You're making me waste my time. And I'll have you know, my time is precious."

Harry tried to make his point.

"Your father is a Death Eater, so-"

"-Wow, you're bright!" He scoffed. "Really, no one had noticed before. I shall admire your observation skills. Or rather… I think I shall admire your pathetic round glasses."

"Shut up, Malfoy!"

"Touchy, aren't we, Potty?" He sneered at him, hitting his nerve, "Hasn't that ugly scar on your forehead let you sleep last night? Really, you're in a real bad mood!"

"Malfoy!" He yelled angrily.

"Oh, please. What are you complaining about? It's _you_ who has to get to his bloody fucking point, so get going, Potter! I don't have all day!"

And then, his 'bloody fucking point' was made.

"You're a Death Eater, aren't you?" He said accusingly, "I know you are."

Draco laughed at him in front of his face. That made Harry just angrier and angrier, he felt like he just wanted to hex him just to make him stop. But he had to contain himself from doing so. Not because he was afraid he would hex him back, rather because he was afraid he wouldn't be able to stop: Because he really was afraid of becoming a monster.

"Potter, I beg you. Just because I'm your childhood enemy you're going to state I'm a Death Eater? Are you _really_ that low?"

"It's not because of that-"

"-It's because of my father, yes, you've said that and have made a fool out of yourself. "His voice was coldly and dangerously soft, and it was filled with bitterness "Please, continue. Enlighten me. Why should I have become a Death Eater?"

The bitter irony and the danger echoed in his voice, and that left Harry completely speechless.

"Because you– You-" he stuttered helplessly.

"I'm listening, Potter."

"Look, I just _know_ it's you, okay?" He yelled.

"Pfft, Potter. You're even more ridiculous than I had dared to think, really. All right, fine. Let's pretend I'm a Death Eater. And now… The proofs are exactly… _Where?_"

Harry didn't hesitate to answer his question.

"On your forearm, Malfoy."

Draco smirked. Really, the way Potter was glaring at him with his emerald eyes didn't frighten him in any kind of way. On the contrary, they _amused_ him to no end. They amused him, because, Potter was ignorant to the fact that he was actually talking to the man who'd kill him in a couple of weeks.

'Let him have his fun while he still can.' He arrogantly thought.

"Oh, do you mean… on here?"

And with those words, Draco lifted up the right sleeve of his Quidditch uniform in a rough motion.

He internally laughed down on Potter as he saw his forearm: There was no Dark Mark. There was _nothing, _but his pale, pale skin_._ The look on Harry's face was priceless: His forehead had drawn a hard frown, his emerald eyes had opened widely in disbelief, as his jaw slightly dropped, leaving his mouth open, stuttering some ridiculous phrases and sole words that didn't have any sense.

Poor Potter. Poor Saint Potter. He thought he knew so much about Dark things or about the Dark Mark. He knew it was for the Dark Lord to call his Death Eaters, but what else did he know? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. If he had known, he would've told him to lift up his _left_ sleeve, _really_ proving Draco a Death Eater. But yet he didn't.

'You don't know that much as you thought you did, now did you, you fucking saint?' Draco maliciously thought. 'Tough Luck, Potter.'

Besides, his statement about Potter telling him he was a Death Eater was awfully ridiculous. Firstly, he didn't have anything to prove him a Dark Side's follower, and secondly, his statement had been just so dry and so empty on information, that he could easily refute his thesis with only a lie.

And honestly, he was Draco Fucking Malfoy. Best liar of history.

So the blonde just sneered at Potter.

"Now you've seen it. And there: No Dark Mark! I'm not a Death Eater."

"You used dark magic to hide it." He said stubbornly.

"Potter, for fuck's sake, you're behaving childishly just because you don't want to accept I didn't get fucking marked and that your suspicions about me are totally false." He spat while rolling his greyish eyes, "I've already showed you my arm, and you've seen _nothing_. You _failed. You're wrong! _Fucking get over it, Potter. Sheesh!"

"NO! What side are you on, Malfoy?" He insisted while he cried out in desperation, "You're not on the bright side, and there's no neutral side, so you have to be on the Dark Side! You _have to be_ a Death Eater!"

Draco just huffed and rolled his eyes at him.

"Getting up some ridiculous suspicions, eh? That's so bloody typical of you." He said in a superior tone. "Well, Potter. Very well. You truly are wasting your time. I don't happen to be a Death Eater; I haven't joined the Dark Side. I mean, why would I decide to join a bunch of idiots that follow another bigger idiot who's just going to die in the end? What's the point in that?"

Harry frowned and sunk deeply into thought.

Draco's mercury eyes slightly narrowed as he thought that was the best moment to use Legilimency on Potter: He was so focused on his thoughts that he wouldn't even notice him reading his mind. Potter wouldn't even know that Draco would be entering his reason having the chance to easily manipulate him.

'_Legilimens!_' He conjured in his mind.

And there it was: Harry had to admit Malfoy really had a strong argument. But still, there was something about Draco that really bothered him. And what bothered him most was the fact that he didn't know if he was lying or not. He couldn't tell. His argument said he didn't; yet his aura said otherwise. And Harry didn't know whom to trust.

He just knew one thing: _Never trust the enemy_.

All right, that had been more than enough. And that had been much more than helpful: It had been the perfect thought for a twisted mind like his. He wouldn't trust the enemy? Of course not, he wouldn't. But… He would trust the enemy's _lies_.

Draco lifted up the spell as he saw Potter was starting to lose his concentration on his thoughts. He was now looking at him. He happened to be _glaring_ at him again.

"I don't believe you at all, Malfoy." He stated, "So I'm going to ask you again: Which side are you on?"

"I'm neutral in this matter, I told you. But since you're being such a nuisance and I don't have much time for your childish shit, I'm going to reveal you a little secret: I am _not_ a Death Eater and I´m not following the bright side either, because _I happen to be my own master._" He whispered.

"Your own master? What is _that _supposed to mean?"

Draco's smirk grew wider. Now it was time for him to tell Potter _the actual truth_. The advantage was, Potter would believe it a lie. And the more lies he believed, the less he knew.

"It means, Potter, that I plan my very own strategies, I think about how to do all things. And, tell you what? _I_ will be the one to kill Voldemort. And _I_ will be the one to kill _you_. _I_ will be the one to have the power. _I_ will be, and not anyone else."

Draco laughed quietly and dangerously, looking at Potter deeply in the eyes with his greyish ones, trying to hypnotize him.

"Now, now, Saint Potter. I've just told you what my brilliant masterpiece is. Do you believe _anything_ of it? Do you believe _me_?"

"No. I don't believe you, Malfoy; I know you're lying. You just can't be on your own." He told him, "There's some kind of sick trick behind all this. And I'm going to find out."

_The more lies he believed, the less he knew. And the less Harry Potter knew, the better for Draco Malfoy._

Draco hid his most evil smirk and faked indifference.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, Potter–"

"–I swear." The Boy-Who-Lived warned, "_I fucking swear I will find out, Malfoy._"

Draco just shrugged arrogantly and got on his broomstick. He then flew off with an only thought on his mind.

'Man should not swear in vain, Potter.' He thought maliciously, doing his best to hide his dangerous smirk, 'Don't you know that's a sin?'

~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…

**YAYYYY! CHAPTER FOUR'S UP! YYYESSSSSS! **

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	6. Little Victories

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**The Blood Letter**

**Chapter V: Little Victories**

~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~

Hermione still was at the library, shock still running through her veins. Draco Malfoy, the one who had always insulted her as a filthy little Mudblood, the one who had always shown the hate he felt for her, had suddenly waited for her at her favorite library's spot. He had surprised her by kissing her roughly; by telling her he would be the only one she would be with from then on. His reason? A Blood Letter with her name written on it.

It was unbelievable.

She couldn't help but wonder if he had invented some parts of the tale. Like the part he had been unconscious and still had known what had been up between Harry, Ron, Lavender and her. She sighed in frustration: She didn't believe a word of that; he just had been spying on her. But yet again, why? His tale told about him getting the letter _after_ he had supposedly thrown into the water and been unconscious, so why had he shown this obsession of his _before_ reading the Blood Letter? It didn't make any sense!

When had he become so damn obsessed with her?

Hermione bit her under lip so she could think more properly: It always helped. But as her teeth touched the flesh of her lips, she slightly yelped: Draco had bitten in there hardly; he had left a little scar in there.

The Gryffindor softly touched her lips with her thin fingers, somehow trying to remember the feeling of his lips being on hers. She had to admit, even though it had been rough and punishing, even though it had hurt, Draco's kiss had awoken something deep inside her she didn't even know she had. She didn't know what it was; it was something she couldn't describe at all. Maybe if she bit again, she could at least recall the sensation and tell what it was.

And so, her teeth met her lips' flesh once again.

Her tongue caressed the little mark softly so the weird feeling after having bitten her under lip faded away. She was surprised as she realized she tasted her blood: It had a kind of metallic taste, yet kind of salty mixed up with sweet and bitter at the same time. The surprise was even bigger when she realized she liked the taste of it. No, she didn't like it.

…_She loved it. _

_~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~_

And again, he would remind himself he had no choice but to obey Draco's orders.

Severus Snape was right there, standing in front of Slughorn's office door. His wand was tightly held in his hand, ready to curse. And it was held so tightly it trembled. It didn't tremble because he was scared. No, he had already cursed many people in his life: He had injured some people; he had even killed some more. Not out of fun, of course, but to win the Dark Lord's trust.

But this wasn't about winning anyone's trust. This was about him obeying Draco's orders, in order to keep his very own life untouched. This was about _surrendering to his very own godson._ And the worst part was, there wasn't a single way to get it back on him.

_Shit._ _He had to do it. And his inner voice shouted at him that he really didn't want to._

Snape huffed out in frustration and knocked on the door. He started hearing some steps and some tired panting coming from the insides of the room: Slughorn was indeed at his late ages, and it somehow made him feel a little sorry to have to curse him. But as he had already stated many, many times before: It was either putting the Imperius curse on him or losing his life.

_Damn him for being so overly possessive with his life!_

Of course, he had a reason: He never believed in hell or heaven, and therefore, dying wouldn't imply getting to see his Lily again. And since living was the only way to remember her, to keep each and every one of his memories, he acted egoistically. And stupidly, too, in a certain way: Why did he want to live? Did it make any kind of sense? After all, if he died, he would lose something he never had. He would lose _nothing_.

And knowing he would lose nothing when he could've lost something if James Potter hadn't gotten in his way… hurt. And it hurt badly.

He knocked on the door again to push those sad thoughts away from him. He needed a cool mind to curse that old man.

"I'm coming, don't be impatient!" His old, tired, airy voice said in annoyance.

Severus only had to wait two more seconds.

The door opened, and Slughorn's usual bright face dropped at once. Not because he knew about Snape having the mission to curse him, but rather, because he knew from Dumbledore that Snape had taken the news he had to give up on teaching potions quite badly.

"Hello, Severus." He cordially greeted, unable to help the trembling in his voice.

"Hello, Horace." Snape's face darkened at the mention of the name.

_He didn't want to do it, he didn't want to do it, he didn't want to do it!_

"What brings you here?" He almost stuttered.

"_You_." He darkly said.

The old potions master gasped at Snape's statement.

Horace Slughorn's emerald eyes opened widely in surprise and somewhat fear; and his jaw dropped open.

"Wh-"

And in a rapid, yet trembling wrist motion…

_He didn't want to do it, he didn't want to do it, he just didn't want to do it!_

_NO! DON'T!_

"_Imperio!_"

…Severus cursed him.

Slughorn's gaze went lost, his eyes lost their shine, and they suddenly just stared through him and at the nothingness.

"You will adhere to Draco Malfoy's orders, Horace Slughorn." Snape stated.

"I will… adhere…" He whispered, his gaze still lost. "…To Draco Malfoy's… orders. Draco… Malfoy…"

Snape sighed in relief.

_He did it._ _At least now, his life wasn't at stake anymore_.

Or that was what he thought.

~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…

Draco was flying on his broomstick at its full speed; he was about to catch the Golden Snitch. He was close, he was damn close: His arm was stretched, all his muscles were tensed up, and his forehead was covered in sweat. And still, he looked just as handsome as always.

'Just a few more inches…' He thought, 'Come on, you bloody golden flying ball!'

And then, it happened. Draco had jumped off his broomstick all of a sudden to wrap his hand around the Golden Snitch, and didn't fail at it. He looked at his hands as he fell onto the ground: He had caught it. He had _finally_ caught it. Yes, it was true: He was practicing for the match due to the next day, but still, having the Golden Snitch in his hands felt like a little victory to him.

He wanted to stand up from the ground, but…

The Slytherin suddenly felt a rush of incredible power running through his veins: It was electrifying and also, it was kind of overwhelming. He felt a very pleasant ticklish rush upon his chest, and a sort of nice pressure on his stomach. The rush burnt his skin and cooled it up at the same time; it was a real strange sensation.

_Yet it felt so good._

Draco knew that had nothing to do with the Golden Snitch. He somehow suspected it had to do with having control over Slughorn. He could tell by the slight tremble of his hand: Draco Malfoy just wanted to order around, he just felt the need to tell Slughorn to brew that Unforgivable Potion for him.

Yes. The Unforgivable Potion. It was so damn evil he could almost enjoy its sweet taste. He licked his lips: It was the taste of _victory_.

"We're going to kick Gryffindor's ass tomorrow, people!" Nott yelled from his broomstick, "Malfoy has caught the Snitch in a new record time! Potter's not going to have any chance! I suggest we spare our energy for tomorrow. Hey, Malfoy, what do you say about that? Can we leave?"

He smirked at Theodore Nott. He liked that boy. Maybe he wouldn't kill him when he ruled the world.

"You slimy snakes get out of my sight." He ordered, "And don't you fucking get pissed tonight. You'll need to be sober to kick all those Gryffindorks pathetic asses."

All Slytherins laughed with a mock of arrogance as they started to leave. Yes, they would enjoy the pathetic expression on Potter and Weasley's face. They definitely would, there was no doubt about that.

The blondest snake was about to leave with his team too, as he felt another rush of power running through his veins again, this time, even more powerful than the first wave. Plus, he could've sworn he had heard Slughorn say his name.

'Draco… Malfoy…'

_Excellent_.

His old voice just sounded so brilliantly hexed… He just knew his masterpiece would work out. He was totally sure of it it.

He heard Horace Slughorn's voice echoing inside his head again.

'I will… adhere… to Draco… Malfoy's rules…'

His greyish eyes shone with danger, arrogance, and big confidence, as his smirk grew even wider. He evilly laughed: Yes, victory definitely would be his.

~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…

**AAANNNNND! CHAPTER FIVE! HAHAHAHAH! YAAAY! And it's full of angst :D haha **

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	7. His Deadly Eyes

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**The Blood Letter**

**Chapter VI: His deadly eyes.**

~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~

Just to make sure that the old potions master Horace Slughorn was under his control; Draco decided to pay him a visit. He would be very casual, as he put it. He would ask a few questions and then he'd start to order him to brew his potions.

Draco decided to take it easy on him: Cordial knocks on the door, friendly face, small talk, little threats in between, and then tell him the consequences he would be forced to face if he didn't brew the potions quickly and efficiently. Oh, and an Outstanding in his marks would also be necessary. Yes, he definitely would be taking it rather easy on him.

_Knock, Knock!_

The door opened with the alone touch of his hand. His eyes opened in surprise, he really didn't expect the door to be half open. Draco just shrugged at it and came into the room, making sure he really closed the door behind him.

The Professor came from the corner; his emerald and hypnotized eyes were now focused on Draco. He just took two more steps towards the blonde and stood there, silent, as if he was waiting for Draco to order around.

Draco smirked, as he felt the exact same wave of power rushing through his veins once more. Ah, yes. He had already come to love the sensation.

"Good day, professor Slughorn. Please, let me introduce myself. I am Draco Malfoy." Draco dangerously greeted. The creepiness in his voice was audible. "How are you feeling? Cursed, I guess."

"Good day, Draco Malfoy." His voice was hypnotized; it was like talking to someone that sleep wandered. "Yes, I am cursed. I have been told to follow your orders."

"Excellent." He whispered to himself, "Now, now, professor. You don't know who I am, nor do I know much about you. So, what do you say? Fancy a 'Get-to-know-each-other' round?"

~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~

It was just bloody splendid!

Horace Slughorn happened to know the Dark Lord's youngest years. Even more, he had happened to be his favorite teacher. Or even better, he had happened to be _his master: _That professor hadn't noticed he had actually taught everything about dark magic skills to the Dark Lord.

Horace Slughorn had created the most feared monster of all times: Horace Slughorn had created Lord Voldemort. He had created the most powerful wizard of history! And he hadn't even realized it back in that time.

And that wasn't even the best part!

After Lord Voldemort's first attack, and after knowing _he_ had created such a murderer, Slughorn decided to leave Hogwarts, not just for fear he would create another monster, but for release all of his anger and agony. He went to the Ministry of Magic, and took the deal Fudge had offered him years ago: Work at the apartment of Dark Magic. With that, Slughorn had not only the possibility to shoot very powerful spells anytime he needed to, but also to improve them: The old master had practiced with very old magical creatures that still were powerful enough to kill a person, and at that, he practiced every single day. Not only with curses, but also with killing potions. And then, many years after that, Dumbledore came along, and somehow convinced him to go back to Hogwarts.

"And now just look where you are!" He said, pure evilness echoing his voice, "Cursed under the Imperius Curse, standing right in front of a blonde snake that is going to use you to no end. How does that feel, professor? How does it feel to know you're about to create a wizard that will overcome the Dark Lord's power? And how does it feel to know that you can't do anything about it, hmm?"

Horace's silence said everything he wanted to hear. His lips drew a smirk.

"Tell me, what do you know about the Unforgivable Potion, Horace?" He asked teasingly, "Quite a potion, huh?"

"The Unforgivable Potion, also known as 'The Potion of Perfection', is an almost unknown potion that only accords to the maker's wishes. It does not matter if the maker wishes for the drinker to die, to become ill or even to love. The Unforgivable Potion does not have any color, any smell or any taste, and there's no organ that gives the potion away. This means, man cannot prove that a wizard has drunk it."

Draco's smirk grew wider.

"Interesting. And tell me, Professor. How much time does it take to brew it?"

"Three months."

'Three months, huh? Long enough for Slughorn and the Dark Lord to train me at the same time. Perfect.' He thought.

"Very well. I want you to brew that potion for me. But be aware, I give you exact three months time. No more, no less. Three months. And if you fail at it, I'll make sure there are severe consequences, like, for example, a painful and slow death. Am I understood?"

Draco could hear the old man swallow: He feared him. Good.

"Yes."

"Good."

Draco looked at the old master with his threatening mercury eyes and saw fear behind his hypnotized emerald eyes. And then, just like that, he started to laugh maliciously right in front of him: Every day that passed, he was more and more convinced that his perfect masterpiece would work.

"Oh, and just one last thing, Professor…"

"Yes?"

"From now on, you'll refer to me as 'My Lord' or 'Master'." He ordered arrogantly, "Now, if you'll excuse me… I still have some important things to do."

"Good bye, My Lord."

"No, Slughorn," he whispered to himself, "That's far from it."

Draco left the room and let the door half open, just like he had found it. The blonde wouldn't want anyone to suspect he had been there.

He lazily stretched his arms. Everything he wanted to do now was to simply find his beautiful princess Hermione.

~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…

Hermione had gone to all her extra classes after having left the library. And now that all her lessons were done and she had finished all her homework, she decided to go for a walk. She really needed some fresh air: Her mind was full with school stuff and with questions about Draco Malfoy's bizarre tale. Or just about Draco sodding Malfoy. And unfortunately, with Ron and Lavender, too.

So, yes. Fresh air. Why not?

The Gryffindor went down the stairs, walked through the exit door and went straight to the black lake. She sat down at the coast and looked at her reflection: There was the picture of a sad girl with curly brown hair that really looked like her. Really, she did. But…

"That's not me." She said to herself.

She grabbed some stones and threw them into the cold water, trying to break that watery picture. But every time the water stilled, the sad reflection that reminded her of her situation came back and made her even angrier than she already was.

"Go away!" She yelled.

"That really is a charming way to greet your boyfriend."

She turned around and saw Malfoy. Ugh.

"Oh, please. You're not my boyfriend, Malfoy. You're not even a friend of mine."

"My, my, sweetness, you're in a grumpy mood."

"Maybe because of that invented tale of yours!" she spat, "And stop calling me sweetness!"

He stirred a laugh.

"First: I'll call you whatever I want, _sweetness_." He mocked with arrogance, "And second: Define 'invented'."

Hermione huffed. Why that arrogant, little ferret…! He really had a nerve, didn't he? Ugh, ugh, ugh and double ugh!

"You were not unconscious when you saw the whole situation, admit it already. You just followed me and decided to spy. Which means, your obsession with me began _before_ you read that _pathetic_ Blood Letter of yours. So, now, start telling the truth, Malfoy. I'm listening."

Draco took two steps and sat down next to her. He then took a little stone and also threw it into the water, a smirk drawn on his face.

"You really are good at ruining metaphors and tales, aren't y-"

"Malfoy!"

"Draco, sweetness. Draco." He corrected.

"Ugh! Whatever! Just– Just tell me the truth, will you?"

He stirred another laugh; it had been almost like a purr. And it had sounded so awfully… _sexy_. It had _almost_ made her blush.

Malfoy stretched an arm and wrapped it around Hermione's shoulders, pulling her close to him. He made her lose her balance and so she fell on his strong arms: It felt like Draco was holding her as if she was a baby. And somehow, even though she wouldn't admit it, it felt safe to be held like that. It felt warm. It felt… good.

The blonde leant in so he could kiss her soft lips. He used the chance to slip his tongue into her warm, sweet mouth, as he had seen her delicious lips were ajar. His trained tongue explored her mouth in detail, making sure she moaned… making sure she _kissed him back._

But she didn't… _yet_.

"Oh, so I should tell you the truth, huh? And, my love," He said between kisses, "What's in for me?"

"Nothing." She answered, trying to pull away, "Malfoy, let go!"

"Nuh-uh, princess." Draco teased, biting her under lip, "Wrong answer."

He deepened the kiss and made it rougher, showing her he was in control. The arm that was held her pulled her even closer to him, as one of his hands wandered through her shoulders, ending up on her breasts. He squeezed her breast and made her moan.

Draco broke the kiss for a moment and looked at her deeply in the eyes, his mercury ones suggestively shining.

"Let's see, princess, I'll put it this way: You tell me why you have this grumpy mood and I'll tell you the truth about this, how did you say it, oh yes: obsession of mine, hmm?" He gave her a quick peck on her swollen lips, "What do you say? Do we have a deal?"

"I…"

She didn't know why, but she suddenly felt the urge to tell him what happened to her. She felt the urge to tell him about her feelings for Ron. She hated him for liking him. It was very confusing, in a way. And she hated confusion. She hated… She hated wanting to tell Draco about what she hated!

–Wait, _what?_

UGH, HATE! SHE HATED EVERYTHING!

UGH!

She sighed out in frustration.

"It's– It's nothing. It's just… Ron. And Lavender. Making out everywhere I go. It's like he's trying to make me… jealous. And I… I–I wanted him to… I don't know. To… To kiss me? I don't… I–"

And right there was her mistake. She told him about Ron. About her being jealous of Ron kissing Lavender and not her: That made him feel anger rush through his veins. And since he was holding her in his strong arms, she was at his entire mercy.

And right then, _that_ was not good. Not at all.

"You nothing." He spat dangerously, "I told you. From now on, I'll be the only one you'll be kissing. I'll be the only man for you. The only one-"

"_You _have no saying in this matter!"

"I forbid you to even come near that brat again-"

"–NO!"

Hermione tried to force against Draco's strong hold, but it was in vain: He held her chin tightly and forced her to look at him. She yelped at that. His gelid eyes were shooting a death glare at her: They were wide open and were directly looking into her chocolate brown eyes, making them look absolutely helpless; accompanied by a very dangerous frown.

His eyes frightened her so much, her breathing stopped for at least ten seconds. Her heartbeats were fast, and she could _feel_ them in her ears.

Draco spoke.

"If you _really_ do care, I suggest you stay away from him." He threatened, "Or I swear to fucking God he's going to _die_."

Her breathing returned all of a sudden, causing her to brusquely pant.

"Am I understood?"

She nodded frantically in the middle of an attack of hysteric. His eyes frightened her much, _so fucking much_.

And then, just like that, his features suddenly softened… and he _smiled,_ as he gave her a soft kiss on the lips.

"Good girl." He whispered, "Come on, kiss me back. I really hate it when we argue."

And for fear of seeing his deadly eyes again, she kissed him back.

~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~

**WOHOOOOOO! NEW CHAPTEEERR! I rock. Hahahah, no just kidding :D I hope you liked it :)**

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	8. Everywhere

**I DON'T HAVE ANY WORDS TO EXPRESS HOW THANKFUL I AM FOR ALL YOUR FAVS, FOLLOWS AND REVIEWS! OH MY GOD, I WOKE UP THIS MORNING AND I SAW 43 EMAILS, ALL FROM ! OH MY GOD, PEOPLE, YOU'RE SO AMAZING! THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU AND A BILLION TIMES THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR SUPPORT! IT REALLY MEANS A LOT TO ME! THANK YOUUUUUUUUU!**

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**The Blood Letter**

**Chapter VII: Everywhere.**

~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…

Draco gave her one last peck on her soft lips before letting her go: Hermione told him she wanted to have a bit of rest; she was tired and she just didn't want to think about anything anymore. 'Wise decision. At least you won't be thinking about Weasley.' She'd heard him saying.

The blonde had to admit, he truly had felt tempted to ask her if she wanted him to escort her to her room and to stay there until she fell asleep, but decided against it. He didn't have to ask for permission; he just had to enter her room in the middle of the night and lie on her bed next to her, hugging her tightly and kissing her curly, brown hair while she slept. But no, he really didn't need her permission for that.

After all, he had already claimed himself as her boyfriend, hadn't he? And as such, it was kind of normal that Ronald Weasley was being a big nuisance to Draco Malfoy. Not because he felt attracted by Hermione, but because _his_ Hermione felt an enormous attraction for _him_. And he didn't like that. Not a tiny bit. But since he was human enough to understand that feelings could not be switched off all of a sudden, he would have to plan something to… _slowly _switch them off_._ And since distance wasn't a possibility right at that time, he saw an only option: Death.

Draco just shrugged: Death. Who cared? A magical war was about to take place, and people would be dying anyway. Besides, philosophically thinking, Death was the actual goal and sense of life and it always came. Sooner or later, but it always did. Sometimes it came naturally, sometimes a person committed suicide, and sometimes, a person killed the other one. But since Death was the goal of life, _who cared?_

The only thing he had to think about was how to make that red head's death look as natural as possible: He had threatened Hermione to kill that bloody idiot if she didn't stay away from him. A direct murder would be way too obvious not just for her but for everyone, so he had to be careful: It was possibly going to ruin his masterpiece if he wasn't. So, he had to think of a way to make it look like it had been an accident.

The blonde didn't have to think for too long: _The Quidditch match_, of course. It was going to take place the next day. He already knew he wouldn't be pushing him off his broomstick; it would be way too obvious and he really could get into trouble. And even though he had Snape to protect him, it wouldn't work out the way he wanted in that case. So, there would be no pushing: In fact, he would be staying really, really far away from him, making sure that the one or the other spell caused the weather to be windy, so damn windy Ron had trouble with managing his broom. And then, when he was about to fall, the sweat in his hands would betray him.

_It wouldn't have been his fault._

Draco smirked. Everything just went deliciously well: Snape had cursed Slughorn, Slughorn was brewing him the Unforgivable Potion, he had left some hickeys on Hermione's delicate neck and now he just had to wait to get some nuisances out of his way: Potter and Weasley.

Weasley would be dying right on the next day. And Potter still had three months time.

And after those two little pieces of scum were finally dead, the awaited time would come: The Dark Lord would suffer Draco Malfoy's wrath. For having marked him, for having killed his mother and for just simply having _existed._

Draco took a stone and angrily threw it into the lake's cold water. He thought of his mother Narcissa: His masterpiece was not only for him to reach perfection and overcome it; his masterpiece was not only for him to finally make Hermione _his and his only_. His masterpiece was for revenging his mother's death; his masterpiece was for balancing her mother's painful screams with Voldemort's even more painful shouts while Draco tortured him.

He realized one thing: Yes, it was true. One just couldn't switch off a feeling, or a memory: His mother just happened to be everywhere he went. And everywhere he went, he happened to miss her.

For the first time in months, his greyish eyes just shed a single, crystal, and bitter tear.

After all, Draco Malfoy was, like everyone else, human.

~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…

Harry had been searching for Hermione like a madman ever since his Quidditch training had finished. And finally, he found her: She was going up the stairs and her brown curls looked kind of wild.

"There you are!" He friendly greeted, "I've been looking for you everywhere."

"Yeah, hi, Harry. Sorry for that. I had a long schedule today, you see. I've been really busy." She dryly replied. She really didn't want him to know what had just happened between her and Malfoy. "Anyway, what did you want?"

Harry frowned at her dryness. Yes, he knew he had hit a nerve the last day during lunchtime, but he really didn't expect her to still be angry about that. Hermione wasn't that kind of person, she was rather forgiving and it was in her nature to 'forget little accidents', as she always put it.

He shrugged. Oh, well. Maybe she only was in such bad mood because of her long schedule. It would be understandable.

He cleared his throat, "Well, I wanted to talk to you about-"

"–Look, if it's about that conversation we had to have with Ron yesterday at lunch time, well, just let him know that I'll be searching for information about the Horrcruxes at the library."

Harry's eyes opened in surprise.

"Aren't you going to tell him yourself?"

'_Not after Draco has threatened to kill him.'_ She thought, "No. I'm still angry at him."

"Huh? Why?"

Hermione rolled her eyes.

'_Because he was snogging Lavender and completely ignored me… and my feelings too. And that bloody hurt. Ugh.'_ She thought again, "Because I happened to be talking to him and he just decided to ignore me. That's rude."

His emerald eyes opened even wider. _Really?_ She _still _was mad at Ron for something like that?

"Uhhh… yeah, sure, rude thing to do. Anyways, "He said, focusing on the topic he had actually wanted to talk her about, "that's not what I wanted to tell you."

Now it was Hermione's time to be surprised.

"Oh?" She simply asked. "What is it, Harry?"

"It's Malfoy." His face darkened at the mention of his name. "He's up to something, I know it. I can sense it."

_Oh, Harry. If you only knew…!_

Hermione tried her best not to freak out in front of him, but it was really difficult, considering she had always been really bad at acting or lying. But still, she had to try. Hermione knew Draco's mind was absolutely twisted. And knowing that, who knew what Draco would do to Harry if he knew that Hermione had told him he had some kind of strange obsession with her. She just decided not to tempt luck.

"Harry, he's just a little, scared ferret that doesn't know how to-"

"-Hermione, he's a Death Eater." He stated. "His father is a Death Eater, it only makes sense!"

Somehow, Hermione thought Harry's statement _actually_ did make some sense. Maybe Draco really was a Death Eater. That would mean-

Hermione couldn't even finish her thought: She suddenly remembered Draco's greyish, deadly eyes, as she felt a shiver running through her spine. It was as if they were telling her to shut the hell up if she didn't want to suffer any of the consequences.

"Stop it, Harry." She dryly ordered.

"But Hermione, don't you see-"

"I said," She interrupted him, "Stop it, Harry Potter. Have you _proofs_, Harry? Can you really prove him a Death Eater?"

'_Well, no. He´s even shown me his forearm and I've seen nothing.'_ He bitterly thought, "I-"

"You just can't. Period."

Harry almost shot a glare at her. There was something highly suspicious about her defending Malfoy, considering she should be the first to report him after so many years of constant bullying.

"Why are you taking his side, Hermione?" He suspiciously asked, "Have you something to do with this? Or, no, wait. Let me say it this way: Has he done something to you? Has he cursed you, or anything?"

_And there were his deadly, icy eyes again; frightening her._

"W-What!" Hermione exclaimed in surprise, "N-No, of course not!"

"Why are you stuttering then?"

_Because of his omnipotent eyes._

"That question took me by surprise, that´s all." She lied.

He narrowed his emerald eyes at her.

"_By surprise. _Like, we're talking about a Death Eater in here. He can curse people whenever he feels like it and you're telling me that question took you… _by surprise_."

"Yes!" She yelled in exasperation, "By surprise! Gosh, Harry, let it go, already! Malfoy's not a Death Eater and he hasn't cursed me! And that's the end of it!"

"I just can't believe what you're saying-"

"-Well, then sodding don't!" She finally yelled at him. "It's up to _you_ to believe in the right people, not to _me_!"

"It's up to you to trust your friends, Hermione! What has he done to you-"

_And once more, she saw his eyes. They threatened to kill her. Or, just, kill. _

And unfortunately, they seemed to be everywhere she went. They made her cry.

"NOTHING, HARRY, FOR FUCK'S SAKE! NOW LEAVE ME ALONE!"

And with that, she stormed off to her room. Sheesh, she really needed some sleep! She just needed some piece and quite for herself: Without Ron and Lavender snogging around, with Draco Malfoy snogging _her_ and without Harry Potter asking so many questions! She. Was. Tired! Was that really so difficult to understand? She only wanted to close her eyes, fall asleep and have some sweet dreams.

That wasn't too much to ask for, now, was it?

~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…

**AAAANDDDDD! CHAPTER SEVEEEENNNN! YAAAY, I ROOOOCKKKKK! Hhahahhaha :D Nah, just kidding **

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	9. Last Quidditch

**Hiii~ ~ ~ ~ :D Well I just wanted to say that yeeees, I know, Draco was kind of soft last chapter, but that was just supposed to be that time. He's going to get a bit darker on the next chapters, so now I shall warn you: If this is NOT your cup of tea, DON'T READ. I swear, it's going to be REALLY dark. So, now I've warned! **

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**The Blood Letter**

**Chapter VIII: Last Quidditch**

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The Great Hall was filled with people wearing either green-silver scarfs or red-golden ones. The Quidditch Match was due that day, and whole Hogwarts was very excited: It had been really long since the last Slytherin versus Gryffindor game. And since Potter and Malfoy were known as the best Quidditch players of school and also as Slytherin and Gryffindor's team captains, all students really were enthused for that game. They all were sure it would make history.

Draco and his team still were at their table, only communicating with the eyes: The blonde looked at Nott and then at Weaselette, at Crabbe and then at McLaggen, at Zabini and then at the Weasel, and so on and so forth until his team looked at him. He just smirked: His match was supposed to be Potter, of course. He was supposed to catch the Golden Snitch before Potter did. But, he was only _supposed_ to do so. That didn't mean he _would_. According to his Masterpiece, Draco Malfoy had a certain duty with Ronald Weasley, hadn't he?

He briefly looked at him. Argh, the redhead truly was disgusting. Eating like a pig, blurting, speaking with a full mouth and laughing like a complete idiot. Ugh, it was loathsome. Draco just couldn't understand what his Princess saw in him.

But, oh well. She wouldn't be seeing him any longer, now, would she? And not only because she had promised him she wouldn't even come near that redheaded imbecile, but also, because Death would be in the Weasel's presence during the Quidditch match.

Both Quidditch teams stood up from their respective tables and started heading to the exit. He saw Potter going to another direction, though. Draco overheard him saying that he still had a quick thing to do before heading to the pitch, so he told Ron to go by himself. 'I'll meet you at the game' he had heard him say.

Well, perfect. Now it seemed to be a good moment to talk to Weasley.

"OI, REDHEAD!" The blonde shouted, "Over here, I have something to tell you."

Ron just turned around, shot something similar to a glare at him and huffed.

"What do you want, Malfoy?"

"Just warn you, you pathetic moron-"

Ron airily chuckled.

"-Please. _You_? Warn _me?" _He mocked, "Well, I'm sorry to tell you, Malfoy, but it should be _me_ warning _you_. I wish you _luck_, even though Gryffindor's going to kick your sore ass."

It was Draco's turn to smirk and chuckle. That redhead was indeed arrogant, but it seemed to be he didn't know with whom he was talking right then. Not only with the _king_ of arrogance, but also with his _murderer_.

'Oh, well. The longer he reminds oblivious, the better for me.' He thought.

"And just, _who_ told you I was about to warn you about _Quidditch_? Who told _you_ I wasn't about to warn you about your life?"

Ron frowned in confusion.

"My life? Wh-"

And then, he looked at him, pure evil shining in his mercury, dangerous eyes. Ron felt a very uncomfortable shiver running through his spine.

"-Enjoy the game while you can, Weasley." He dangerously mocked, "Maybe it'll be your last one."

Ron stood right there, silent. He looked at him deeply in the eyes, trying to read his intentions. But they were just so cold, so _grey_, so neutral, and so _empty_… He couldn't. It was impossible.

Draco's smirk grew wider. Ron slightly yelped at that.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I still have an important thing to do before the match begins."

~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~

The blonde had had a wonderful idea while talking to that idiotic ginger. He had said the key word: _Luck_.

_Luck, Luck Potion, Liquid Luck, Felix Felicis_: It was a climax with an only consequence: His victory.

And oh, with a cursed Horace Slughorn under his entire control, Draco had his potion and his victory already ensured. But it was a very good thing that Weasley, in a very unknowing way, had reminded him of that little detail. If he hadn't talked about _luck, _he probably would have forgotten about it. And even though his whole plan was a masterpiece, there still was the tiny chance he failed. And now that he was quickly walking to Slughorn's office so he could drink the Liquid Luck, he knew for sure he would be unstoppable.

'Thanks for putting it so easy for me, Ginger.' He thought with evilness. 'Didn't know you were so desperate for me to kill you.'

He stood in front of Slughorn's office door, knocking. The potions old man seemed to be acting naturally before opening the door and seeing him, but once he saw his silhouette, magic started to take its effects on him: His emerald eyes lost their shine and looked in the direction of nothingness. Draco _loved_ seeing that image: It was the picture of power.

"Hello, my Lord." His hexed voice said.

"Hello, Horace." Draco darkly said, whilst stirring an evil laugh "Fancy doing me a little favor?"

~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~

Seeing that little bottle with that transparent liquid inside it held in his hand made him feel content: He was going to _win_. It was a _fact_. There was absolutely no doubt about that.

Draco was in the changing room alone, changing into his Quidditch Uniform, while all of his other team mates were already flying around at the pitch, warming up for the game. Excited shouts and exclamations from the Slytherin Quidditch Tower and from some other students encouraged them to keep up the fantastic ball passing. Draco smirked proudly: He was a great captain, indeed.

"Captains, TIME TO COME OUT!" Thomas Dean's voice said from the teacher's tower.

Draco's smirk grew wider: The time to drink the liquid luck had come.

He took the little transparent bottle, took the stopper out of its entrance, and in a very rapid motion, he let the potion run down his throat.

God, it felt brilliant: Felix Felicis tasted like pure vodka; he loved the intense feeling of that potion deliciously burning his gorge. It made him feel a rush of self-confidence running through his veins, it was like being certain about absolutely everything. It was a wonderful sensation, how did he put it that time? Oh, yes. It was _welcoming._

He clapped his hands before grabbing his broomstick.

"Here we go." He whispered to himself.

Malfoy went to the entrance to the Quidditch pitch and saw Potter already standing there, glaring at the blonde. Apparently, he had been waiting for him. He arrogantly chuckled. The Boy-Who-Just-Wouldn't-Fucking-Die was indeed persistent.

"Hermione has locked herself up in her room and doesn't want to come out." Potter told him, "You have done something to her, haven't you, Malfoy?"

He smirked. Of course he had, but those had only been hot kisses and a bit of passionate touching that had made her moan loudly. He still hadn't claimed her as _officially_ his, so, basically, no. He hadn't done anything big… _yet_.

The blonde looked at him arrogantly.

"Maybe, Potter. Maybe." He answered, "But this I assure you, I didn't make her cry. Actually, I didn't do anything she didn't like. And if you don't believe me, the only thing you have to do is check the hickeys on her neck."

Harry's emerald eyes opened widely.

"WHAT THE HELL IS THAT SUPPOSED TO-"

Before Harry could even finish his sentence, Draco had already gotten on his broom and flown away from him, and started to greet Hogwarts. Once the blonde reached his captain position at the pitch, he looked at Ron and saw a fearing facial expression drawn on his face.

He smirked.

_The game had begun. _

~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…

It already had been an hour and twenty minutes.

All of the Quidditch Towers were awfully loud; the ambient was perfect for a Quidditch game: Quaffles and Bludgers were flying around while players tried to catch them, pass them to their teammates, reach the goal of the opposite Quidditch team and make a score.

"AND, HERE IT GOES! NOTT PASSES THE QUAFFLE TO CRABBE, CRABBE PASSES TO ZABINI, ZABINI MALFOY, MALFOY HEADS TO GRYFFINDOR'S GOAL HOOPS, MALFOY, MALFOY, MALFOY!"

Draco was flying towards Ron in high speed, making sure he saw his greyish eyes. Ron heard Malfoy's dangerous voice echoing inside his head:

"_Who told you I wasn't about to warn you about your life? Enjoy the game while you can, Weasley. Maybe it'll be your last one." _

"COME ON, WEASLEY! PROTECT GRYFFINDOR´S GOAL HOOPS!"

"_Warn you about your life_…_Maybe it'll be your last one…"_

"RONALD WEASLEY, FOCUS, FOCUS, FOCUS!"

"_Your life… Your last one…"_

Draco was awfully near. He threw the Quaffle through the hoop, causing Ron to close his eyes.

"AAAAND GOAL! GOAL, GOAL, GOAL FOR SLYTHERIN!" Dean Thomas shouted, making the audience explode in furor, "AND THIS MAKES SLYTHERIN 102, GRYFFINDOR 86! WHAT A GAME, HOGWARTS! WHAT A GAME!"

"RON, FOR GOODNESS' SAKE!" Potter yelled, "FOCUS, WILL YOU!"

"Y-Yes, sorry!" He replied; his eyes focused on Malfoy, "I'll do better next time!"

"I HOPE SO", Harry shouted from the distance in annoyance, "YOU REALLY ARE SCREWING UP TODAY!"

Time kept passing by. And passing by. And passing by.

Draco smirked: The time to _supposedly_ catch the Golden Snitch had finally come. And the time to make it windy, too, so he got a grip on the tip of his broom and put slight pressure on it, so he could descend to the field. Once there, it was time for him to search for a hiding place: He remembered his first Quidditch tournament at Hogwarts. Hadn't he tried to catch the Golden Snitch right at the corner over there, where anybody could see him?

He flew towards his hiding place without anybody noticing. Once he was covered by the darkness of the place, he stopped his broomstick, and took his wand out.

The silvery snake closed his eyes, as he started to feel Felix Felicis working on his magic: He felt certain, confident. Nothing could stop him from reaching the goal of the potion: Kill a certain person. Ronald Weasley.

His smirk grew wider, and wider, forming into a creepy, evil smile.

"_Fera Aer!_"

…And then, with a very elegant and rapid wrist motion, the Slytherin convoked a very stormy hurricane.

~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~

The whirlwind came from the middle of the nothingness all of a sudden, surprising everyone. Its wind was really loud, aggressive; and the tornado per se was kind of scary: Thunders and fire were coming out of it, threatening to kill somebody. Many players flying around the middle of the Quidditch pitch had to manage to somehow fly away if they didn't want the typhoon to reduce them to ashes.

"OFF YOUR BROOMS! OFF YOUR BROOMS!" Miss Hooch shouted, "COME ON! OFF YOUR BROOMSTICKS EVERYBODY!"

While all Gryffindors and Slytherins made it off their brooms, all other students were ordered to go back to the castle immediately, to go to their houses and wait up until the storm was over.

All Quidditch players were ordered to go to the changing room and stay there, so Mme. Hooch could count all of them, thus making sure everybody was safe and sound.

"Slytherins, to the right. Gryffindors, to the left. Now." She ordered. Both houses did as told, "Alright, I'll start roll calling you, and I don't want _no one_ doing some kind of stupid joke by not answering his or her name. Am I clear?"

Both houses nodded.

"Alright." She said, as she took a list, "Slytherins, I'll commence with you. Crabbe, Vincent!"

"I'm here!"

"Goyle, Gregory!"

"Yes!"

"Malfoy, Draco!"

_Silence._

She called again.

"_Malfoy, Draco!"_

Again, _silence. _Draco didn't answer. There was a slight murmur from all students, wondering where the Slytherin's captain was.

~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~

Draco had always been a curious man: Rare things had always fascinated him. Rare things like nature disasters. Tsunamis, earthquakes… And, why not? Tornados, too. He had always wanted to see one of those. And now he didn't only have the opportunity to see one from really near, but also to see if that redhead was already dead.

_He now had the chance to see if there was a nuisance less to take care of. _

He smirked. Of course the Weasel would be dead. Malfoy had drunk Felix Felicis, and he had wished for Weasley to pass away. And Felix Felicis _never_ failed. 

So, once more, he took a fest grip on his broomstick and started to elevate. He was being extremely careful, the whirlwind was really strong and attacking, and if he wasn't as cautious as he was being right then, the probability to get hurt was higher.

Draco was already about hundred and fifty feet off the ground, the perfect high for overviewing the Quidditch field and also to see the beauty he had in front of his eyes: A firry, golden, thundering, burning, and imperial whirl, so powerful it almost made him feel slight fear. It was destructive, twisted-minded. Combative, _masterful_.

_Just like him._

It had something very attractive; indeed, he had the urge to come nearer to it. Just a little bit, nothing bad could happen. _He_ was the hurricane's master, and not otherwise. So, he flew closer to it and stretched his arm to touch the whirl with his hand, just to feel power and more power rush through his veins.

And then, right at the moment where he thought he could fly without the need of a broom, Draco jumped off of it and flew into the typhoon by himself.

The blonde felt his pale, pale skin deliciously burn and electrify, as the wind cooled it up at the same time. It was an orgasmic feeling. He felt himself falling but he didn't care, he felt free, he felt powerful. He felt like a conqueror, like a king dominating the whole world in company of his princess.

"Hermione…" He whispered while he fell. "My sweet, tender Hermione…"

He felt the emotional distance shorten up now that Weasley was gone forever, and it felt so damn brilliant. It felt just so good to know his princess couldn't love anyone but him…

His body was just about to touch the ground; his head was about to hit the field so his brain would lead him into unconsciousness. Die? No, he wouldn't. He was certain he wouldn't.

Not only because he had taken Felix Felicis and that granted him his life, but also, because he still had so much to live for: He still had to finally get rid of Potter and of Voldemort. He had to conquer the world.

And the most important thing…

_He still had to claim Hermione as his and his only._

Draco's lips drew a smirk as his mind showed him one last image before falling into unconsciousness: His naked Hermione, soaking wet in sweat, moving under his body, loudly, deliciously and helplessly moaning his name.

_FASTER, DRACO! FUCK ME! YES, RIGHT THERE! MORE, MORE! DRACO! DRACO! _

'It won't be long, sweetness. It won't be long.'

And with that last thought, unconsciousness covered his brain with a silk blanket.

And so the whirl returned to Draco's wand.

~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~

"_MALFOY, DRACO, DO NOT TEST MY PATIENCE!"_ The Quidditch teacher shouted.

But Malfoy wasn't to be found anywhere.

"Professor! Professor-" A Gryffindor said, worry echoing his voice, "Ron Weasley isn't here either."

"WHAT!" Harry shouted under the multitude. "NO! RON! Fuck, I have to go find him! I have to-"

Harry tried to get out from the multitude and run outside, but Ms. Hooch held him tightly, so it didn´t matter how much force he used, he couldn't escape: But The Boy Who Lived cried and shouted after his friend's name; he begged Ms. Hooch to let him go. In vain: the more he forced against her hold, the tighter she held him.

"HE'S MY BEST FRIEND! PLEASE, I HAVE TO-"

"-You don't have to do _anything_! You won't be going anywhere, Mr. Potter!" Miss Hooch stated. "Not only one boy is missing, but there are _two, _and God knows if they're dead. I won't be risking another boy, do you hear me?"

"But-"

"But _nothing_, Potter! You stay here! Don't you force me to hex you and knock you out for you to be quiet." The professor threatened. Harry said nothing, so she continued, "Good. Now. McLaggen, I want you to roll call all the students while I go find the other two. And if anyone should think he is a kind of hero and thus tries to go out, you do have my permission to hex him. Is it clear?"

Both teams nodded reluctantly, especially Harry Potter, and McLaggen did as he was told, while all other students saw Hooch go through the exit door.

~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~

Everything was silent, foggy and somewhat destructed. There were only Hooch´s steps to be heard: Her shoes squashing the grass with every step she took, making a ticklish echo all over the place.

"DRACO! RON!" She shouted. "CAN YOU HEAR ME?"

_Nothing_. There was just silence and the echo of her own voice.

"Shit…" She whispered to herself.

She kept on walking. The echo grew louder with every stride.

Professor Hooch suddenly felt a cool feeling running through her spine, she got goose bumps, and every time she breathed she saw a light vapor cloud coming out of her mouth.

And suddenly, there they were: Two bodies lying on the wet grass, outside in the cold.

"Oh my goodness!" She exclaimed, while she ran towards them and knelt before them, "Draco, Ron! Wake up!"

She started shaking their bodies, just to see if there was any reaction.

"Come on, boys! Come on!"

Out of Draco's mouth came some light vapor clouds, and the Quidditch trainer saw his chest moving: He was breathing. _Perfect_, at least he was still alive.

Hooch decided to stop shaking Malfoy and shake Weasley. If the blonde was alive, the redhead should be, too.

"Please, don't be dead. Please, don't be dead." She said to him, repeatedly, "Don't be dead. Don't be dead–"

Shaking, pressure on his chest, mouth to mouth… Nothing seemed to work on Ron.

With a trembling hand, she decided to face her suspicions: She placed two fingers on his neck and tried to feel his pulse. She didn't care if it was powerful or weak, but she just knew she wanted to _feel_ it.

Nothing.

_Ronald Billius Weasley, born in March 1980, was dead._

~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…

**OH MY GOOOOOOOOOODDDD! THIS IS BEEN SUCH A LONG CHAPTER, FULL OF ANGST! I HOPE YOU LIKED IT! **

**FAVS AND FOLLOWS ARE SO MUCH APPRECIATED! **

**AND REVIEWS TOOOOO! THEY MAKE ME HAPPY AS HELL! :D **

**THANK YOUUUUUU SO MUCH FOR READING! **

**SEE YOU ON NEXT CHAPTER! **


	10. The Prophecy

**I'M SO SORRYYYYY I updated so late :( Shitty school Ugh! Oh well, haha :D Therefore, this chapter shall be a bit longer than usual, filled with angst, drama and suspense! I really hope you like it! **

**Oh, I almost forgot! Hehe **

**THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR EVERY FOLLOW, FAV AND REVIEW! KEEP THEM COMING THEY MAKE ME SO HAPPY! :D **

**Enjoy your reading! :) **

**The Blood Letter**

**Chapter IX: The Prophecy**

~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…

Severus Snape was being carried to the hospital wing. The grumpy professor had looked paler than normal before fainting, and he complained about everything being too loud; he had complained about having a terrible headache and then, once all students were at their houses, waiting for the dangerous storm to end, and once all professors met at the Great Hall's entrance to discuss the recent event, he just fainted in front of them. Just like that.

And coincidence, coincidence… Draco was laying on one of those beds, unconscious as well, while Mme. Pomfrey brewed some potions that were supposed to help with all bruises on his skin and all possible internal damage.

It must have been the Unbreakable Vow: If Draco's life was in danger; _Snape's was as well. _

Many professors were surrounding Severus: McGonagall was there; Flitwick was there as well, Binns, Trelawney, and for the love of god, Hagrid was there as well, too. But once Poppy Pomfrey saw Albus Dumbledore entering the room, she quitted preparing Mr. Malfoy's potions and headed to see the ancient wizard; a look of pure worry and somewhat anxiety drawn on her face.

Dumbledore tried to calm her down by only looking into her eyes with his calm ones. It normally worked, but not that time. The old man frowned: it had to be something real bad for Poppy to be so worried.

"Poppy, what's wrong?"

"Albus," She said shaking her head, "Come with me. Something bad happened."

The nurse turned around and indicated him to follow her quick pace. She led him to the other side of the hospital wing, where only one single bed was to be found: The same bed Cedric Diggory had laid on when he died. And now, the corpse of another wizard happened to lie under the covers of that deathbed.

The director shook his head in disbelief and somewhat sadness, as he gasped. He led his already halfway black hand to his forehead, massaging it: A student had died during that storm.

He sighed and looked at Mme. Pomfrey, who was standing right next to the bed, her hands holding a trembling grip on the sheets, not fully daring to uncover the body.

Her eyes were pleading him to come near her and see for himself.

With very slow steps and a skeptical look on his face, Dumbledore went over that bed. He saw the sheets covering the body in greater detail: The silhouette under the covers gave the corpse's gender away: A man.

Before daring touch the blankets, he looked at Poppy Pomfrey; his eyes shone with confidence and fear at the same time, somehow telling her that the moment he would uncover the corpse had come. She nodded almost unnoticing, as her hand covered her mouth and her eyes watered.

Carefully, very carefully, Dumbledore started removing the covers: Red hair. That had been the first sign that gave the victim away: It was a Weasley. Arthur and Molly would be devastated when they heard. Dumbledore gulped, as he felt his lungs starting to lightly pant in anxiety.

His hands continued removing the blankets.

And then he saw his face.

"I can't believe it…" He whispered, "Ron…"

~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…

Ginny, Fred and George were called to Dumbledore's office that day. McGonagall had told them it was a really important matter they had to talk about. Ginny couldn't help but frown at the Headmistress' statement; somehow suspecting it was something about Ron's whereabouts. Any of the Quidditch players knew if professor Hooch had found Ron or Malfoy; McLaggen had accompanied them to the castle before she was back. And even though she wanted to think positively, there was something within her that told her to prepare for the worst.

Once they were inside Dumbledore's study room, they were asked to sit down and listen very carefully to what the old wizard had to say. All Weasleys tensed up.

Dumbledore took in a deep breath before speaking.

"It is not easy for me to tell you, Ginny, Fred and George." The headmaster said, "It really isn't."

There was a very tense silence. The director used the chance to look at each of them, sensing the suspense the family was feeling right at that moment.

"As you all know, a very powerful whirlwind attacked the Quidditch field during the game. Most players and students were quick enough to get to a safe place. Unfortunately, two of them weren't able to do so."

Ginny felt her eyes become watery. Fred and George were frowning. The three of them knew it was about Ron. Just, what was up with him? Was he severely injured? In a coma, maybe?

"One of them is Draco Malfoy, who is lying at the hospital wing, unconscious. And the other student… happens to be your brother." Dumbledore took his glasses, put them aside and massaged his frown, as he took in a deep breath. "All of you, put your hands on my shoulders. I'll apparate you all to the Hospital Wing."

The Weasleys did as they were told. Frightened, they all rested their trembling hands on Dumbledore's shoulder and apparated away from his office. And then, they found themselves at the hospital wing, in front of a bed covered with white flowers.

Ginny broke down into tears, and so did Fred and George, as they understood what was happening.

Dumbledore went over to Ron and slowly uncovered his face. His eyes were closed and his facial expression was completely relaxed, it almost looked like he was peacefully asleep. The headmaster caressed his hair, as he looked at the anguished family. He nodded with his head, as if he was telling them to come over and say their last goodbyes.

Fred and George held Ginny's hands tightly, as they started walking towards their brother's deathbed. Once they found themselves in front of him, all of them started to cry even harder than before, hugging and kissing Ron's face and covering it with tears: Their brother was gone. Forever. He wouldn´t come back.

The Weasleys didn't just lose a brother. They lost a good friend. They lost a brilliant person, a bright one. A person that always tried to look on the bright side of life, a person that always knew how to think positively, no matter what. They lost a person that had incredible blue eyes that shone with happiness. They lost a person that always had a smile on his face.

They lost _Ron._

Dumbledore stood behind them, a crystal tear coming out of his eye.

Fred was the first to say goodbye.

"Death leaves a heartache no one can heal, but love leaves a memory than no one can steal. I love you. Rest In Peace."

With those words, he kissed Ron's forehead and left the room.

Now it was George's turn.

"He who has gone," he sobbed, "so but we cherish his memory, abides with us, more potent, nay, more present than the living man. I love you, Ron. Rest In Peace."

George left the room as well, crying.

And finally, Ginny said her last goodbye.

"When someone you love becomes a memory," She said, caressing Ron's cheek with one hand, and holding the sheets preparing to cover his face again with the other, "The memory… the memory…"

And so Ginny broke down completely into tears, sobbing into his brother's dead chest, somehow trying to hear his heartbeats. She cried harder: She heard nothing.

She suddenly felt a hand on her back, caressing it back and forth.

"The memory becomes a treasure." Dumbledore finished for her.

Dumbledore held Ginny's hand and helped her cover Ron's face again.

"Rest In Peace, Ron." He said, "Rest In Peace."

"I love you." Ginny said, almost voiceless. "And I'll miss you so much."

~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~

A few hours later, Molly, Arthur and the rest of the Weasleys showed up to say their last goodbyes. Fred, George and Ginny were told to join them, so they could spend the moment with their family. They all cried, sobbed and took their farewell together, completely devastated because of Ron's death.

After maybe an hour, or maybe two, they didn't know, as they lost track of time; carefully, very carefully, Arthur uncovered Ron, picked him up, hugged Molly and told his family to join the hug. And then all the Weasleys apparated to the Burrow.

Arthur went up the stairs, being followed by everyone, straight away to Ron's room. He laid him on his bed, remembering the times he did that when Ron still was a baby boy. Seeing that same scene with a dead son just broke his heart into thousand tiny pieces.

The family surrounded the bed and cried together once again. They all shed their tears and let them fall on Ron's body. They all rested their hands on his torso, trying to let him feel his last family warmth.

And then, when the moment had come, Arthur would take out his wand within sobbing and tears, and point at his very own son with a trembling and fearful hand.

"_Incendio."_ He whispered softly.

And so the flames covered Ron's body, turning him slowly into greyish ashes.

~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…

Three hours after the Weasleys had apparated away to the burrow, Draco finally started to wake up. Carefully, he started to open his mercury eyes, as he knew that the sunlight would blind him. He stretched his body and tried to lift it onto a sitting position, but failed at it: Fuck, he was feeling dizzy; he just wanted to throw up. He coughed twice and groaned; as he also felt his head was about to explode.

He suddenly turned his head to the right as he heard another coughing than his own and saw his godfather Snape lying right on the bed beside him, probably interiorly complaining about the same symptoms as Draco's.

The blonde couldn't help but smirk: He thought it was extremely amusing that he could toy with him like that. Snape was his little pet: if he planned on doing something, Snape would do his best for it to work, and if he refused, Draco just had to threaten him on risking his life to also risk Snape's thus showing him he could punish him.

"Well, good morning, Godfather." He mocked, "Have you slept well? Oh, no. You'll have to excuse me. You were… unconscious, just like me."

Snape just groaned.

"Shut up, Draco." Snape hissed, "I don't need your arrogance right now."

"Grumpy, as always. Yes, you're feeling absolutely fine." He continued mocking, "The Unbreakable Vow really is a funny thing, don't you agree, Severus?"

"Funny?" He huffed in annoyance, "You've risked your life, Draco. And so you risked mine as well!"

"Well, maybe I didn't do it on purpose. Don't you remember the huge hurricane? That thing caught me while I was _flying_. It wasn't my fault." The blonde faked grumpiness and a certain innocence.

"Maybe it wasn't, but still, Draco, you have to stop risking your life like this."

Draco chuckled arrogantly.

"Now, now, Severus. Why would I do that?"

"Because as I said, you're risking my life as well and I don't-"

"-Oh, let me guess, you don't _want to die_." Draco airily huffed, "Well, let me enlighten you in this matter, Severus: _You_ have made the Unbreakable Vow to my mother, and you know there's no way out of it. And you know it: It's either me and you dying _together_, or it is _you_ killing yourself because you can't handle the pressure of protecting me anymore. And even though it certainly would be a shame for me to not have you as my pet anymore, I have to admit, I wouldn't even care if you died. Besides, Severus… _I know you_. And I know you're way too selfish to die."

Professor Snape remained silent, making Draco smirk.

"Touché." He stated in amusement. "It seems I still have power over you, my dearest godfather."

Snape shook his head reluctantly. Touché. Yes, indeed, _touché._

"What is that you want this time, Draco?" He hissed at him once more, "What do I have to do for you to leave me in peace for a while?"

"Ah, Severus. Always so bright. Well, I need you to do me a little favor…"

"What would that be?"

Draco stirred an evil laugh.

"There's a little tale I've invented, you see. I entitled it Madness, but I think a more appropriate name would be… _The Blood Letter_. Hooking, isn't it?"

"_The Blood Letter?_" He asked.

"Exactly. Well, you see. A part of the tale tells that after having been unconscious, the main character finds a blood written letter with a name on it. I want you to say that this Blood Letter is a kind of a magical bounding that cannot be undone."

"Like a kind of a magical marriage law?"

"Precisely."

Snape sighed. He knew if he objected something, Draco would not only mock him, but also threaten him again with his life. And honestly, he didn't want that. So, with a frown drawn on his face, he dared ask him.

"Say it to _whom_?"

Draco's evil smirk grew wider. He felt tempted to tell him, really, he did. And he was about to open his mouth to give him a hint, but suddenly, they heard steps. It probably was Mme. Pomfrey wanting to have a check on them. Draco quickly mouthed him a 'Tell her I'm still unconscious', and closed his eyes.

As the nurse came into the room, she saw Professor Snape was already awake. She didn't smile, as she normally did with any of the students or with some of the professors when they had been ill, she had never liked professor Snape. But still, Pomfrey was polite enough to nod with her head and ask him how he was feeling.

"I'm fine." He dryly said, "But my godson's still unconscious."

"Well, he's _lucky_ he didn't die."

"What do you mean?"

Poppy Pomfrey sighed out of somewhat sadness.

"The storm… The hurricane killed Ronald Weasley. He had severe internal bleeding, and even though I tried… I couldn't save him. That's why… I think your godson's lucky to still be alive. Besides…"

Pomfrey frowned, as she looked in Draco's direction: He was frowning, and his lips were moving. The blonde seemed to be making those typical noises unconscious people did when they were about to wake up.

"…It seems to be he'll be conscious in very little time." Mme. Pomfrey pointed out, "Isn't he… muttering?"

"…Mio–Mione…" He stuttered.

"What did he say?" The nurse said to herself.

"Her…Hermio– Hermione…" He kept faking his unconsciousness. "Hermione…"

Snape opened his eyes widely, and so did Pomfrey. Did Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger's known enemy, just mutter her very name?

Pomfrey looked at Severus, but he didn't look back, he had his dark eyes still locked on Draco's silhouette. Finally, some of his intentions were clear to him: Draco had asked him to put Slughorn under an Imperius so the old potions master could brew him love potions, or something similar, because he was after a girl. After Hermione Granger, a Mudblood. The little favor of telling her that part of the tale was because he was planning on forcing her into marriage. But the most hooking part was; _why_ would he do that? Why would he bother so much for something like that?

He shook his head and closed his eyes, as he sighed.

"Go get Ms. Granger, Mme. Pomfrey." Severus ordered.

And so she did.

~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…

"No…" Hermione whispered, feeling tears running down her cheeks, "No… Just… No… Ron…"

"…What do you mean, 'he's gone'!?" Harry yelled, as his face turned red, and his eyes let tears flow, "WHAT DO YOU MEAN!"

"Harry…" Dumbledore whispered, as he tried to hold him. "Harry, you need to calm down."

"NO! HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO CALM DOWN!? HOW AM I?!" He kept on yelling, "I WAS AT THE PITCH, SAFE AND SOUND, WAITING FOR THE STORM TO END, UNTIL SOME GRYFFINDOR GUY SAID RON WASN'T THERE! I LET PROFESSOR HOOCH GO FIND HIM WITHOUT ME! BACK AT THE CASTLE, I THOUGHT HE HAD BEEN FOUND, BUT I THOUGHT HE HAD BEEN FOUND WHEN HE WAS STILL ALIVE! AND NOW THAT YOU TELL ME HE'S DEAD, THAT I HAVE DONE ANYTHING ABOUT IT, YOU'RE TELLING ME TO CALM DOWN!?"

"Don't you see there's nothing you could've done about it, Harry?" Dumbledore asked, trying to infatuate him with his calm aura, "It's not your fault."

"But I… I feel so guilty… I should´ve done something… Ron…"

Harry broke down into tears and so did Hermione. Their best friend was gone forever.

"Harry, you have to get rid of these guilt feelings." The headmaster told him, "You have not killed him. _You are no assassin_."

"Assassin?" Harry whispered, "_Assassin,_ you say?"

Hermione looked at him, having already figured out what he had meant by that. All her muscles tensed up: Harry was up to some superstitions, like, Draco had been the one to kill him and not the storm. After hearing what Dumbledore had told them, not only Ron, but also Malfoy had been missing during the hurricane. And remembering Harry's last accusations, it apparently seemed to make sense to him.

"What do you mean, _assassin?_" The Boy-Who-Lived asked him. "Has _someone_ killed Ron?"

Dumbledore remained still at his statement and looked at him deeply in the eyes. After a minute, after exactly sixty seconds, the director sighed.

"The storm during the Quidditch match was not a natural event, Harry. Someone convoked it, most probably a Death Eater. So, you're right about this superstition: Ron has been killed by hands of a wizard, not by hands of Mother Nature."

Harry felt something within him explode.

"IT WAS MALFOY!" He suddenly yelled, "I KNEW IT WAS HIM, FOR FUCK'S SAKE, IT WAS MALF–"

"–SILENCE!" Dumbledore yelled back, "No, Harry. It wasn't Draco-"

"HOW WOULD YOU KNOW!"

"And how would _you_ know?" He asked back, "I happen to know because very dark and advanced magic is needed to convoke such a powerful whirlwind, and as the Headmaster, I can say that Hogwarts does not teach such advanced magic skills, not even to best students."

Harry wanted to say something, but couldn't. He had no argument against Dumbledore's. Everything he could come up with was 'It´s been Malfoy, I just know it'.

Albus Dumbledore continued talking.

"Draco Malfoy has also been injured, Harry." He told him, "And even if he had been the one to curse the typhoon, it wouldn't have made any sense at all. Why would he curse something to get injured?"

"Because– I… I don´t know! But, professor, _please!_ You have to believe me; I know it's been him! He killed Ron, please, believe me! _Please!_" Harry begged, tears still running down his cheeks. He then turned his head to Hermione. "Say something, Hermione! Please! You know as well as I do it's been him, I know you know it! Please! He's killed Ron!"

Hermione had been silently crying, not only because of Ron's loss, but rather because she knew everything Harry was saying was true: Draco had threatened her to kill Ron in order to keep her away from him, so it _actually_ made sense for him to curse a whirlwind and even get himself injured in order to kill someone who clearly was a nuisance to him.

Draco Malfoy had indeed an unbelievable amount of power he could control and a very twisted and dark mind; his eyes had given him away. They had been so… cold, so empty, and yet so full with Death Wishes. And now, now that Ron was dead… she finally understood those eyes.

She felt Dumbledore's gaze on her, as if giving her strength to tell him about everything she knew. And she felt tempted, so damn tempted, even though she was scared to death at the same time.

Hermione took in a deep breath, closed her eyes, shed another tear, sobbed once more and finally opened her mouth so she could start telling the whole story, but right at that moment, Poppy Pomfrey entered the room.

"I'm really sorry to interrupt such a delicate moment, Headmaster. But I really need to talk to Miss Granger." She said politely, "Could you come with me to the Hospital Wing, please?"

Hermione gasped. What else could've happened?

~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…

During the time Pomfrey was away, Draco had opened his eyes, gotten up from his bed, and searched for an empty crystal bottle. Once he had found one, he threw it onto the floor, breaking it into tiny pieces. He took one of them, made all others disappear, and went back to bed.

"Severus", he called him, as he had gone to sleep again. Gods, he was exhausted. "Wake up."

Groaning, Severus started to open his eyes. He muttered a 'What do you want now?' and waited for the blonde to answer.

"Conjure a piece of parchment and a feather, will you? I don't have time to do it myself." The blonde ordered. "Now."

While Snape did as he was told, Draco looked at the tiny piece of crystal he had in his hand and lifted up his right sleeve. He then placed it on his forearm and slightly put pressure on it, while tracing a fine line on his arm. Once he saw there was enough of his blood flowing out of his flesh, he cursed the tiny piece of crystal away and looked at his godfather.

"Quickly, hand me the piece of parchment and the feather." He ordered. "Come on, Severus, I don't have all day!"

Severus handed him the things and observed what Draco was doing: The ink he was using for the feather was his pure blood. For every single letter he wrote, he dipped the feather into his blood and kept writing.

The Half Blood Prince saw a name.

_Hermione_.

He looked at the blonde, who was hexing the feather away while he folded the piece of parchment he had given him. He then took his wand and healed his wound so Hermione wouldn't suspect he had done it. She had to believe it had been _magic_. Now Snape seemed to finally understand: The tale he had invented… His favor… _The Blood Letter._ It only made sense!

Draco looked at his Godfather and nodded with his head, as if he was telling him what he had to do. Snape only gulped at it, while Draco laid himself back to bed and closed his eyes, faking unconsciousness. Snape saw the grip he had gotten on the letter.

Right at the moment Draco had closed his eyes, Mme. Pomfrey came in, accompanied by Mudblood Hermione Granger. Draco seemed to have sensed her presence, because as she had stepped into the hospital wing, Draco started muttering her name again.

"He hasn't stopped muttering your name since the last time I checked on him, Miss Granger." Pomfrey told her. Hermione only nodded. "I know it is a very delicate moment for you right now, but please, if there's something you can do about him, I'm sure all students would be grateful to not have two losses."

Hermione gulped.

"I'll see what I can do", she said, almost voicelessly. She was truly affected by Ron's murder.

Hermione frowned as she saw Snape standing right beside Draco's bed. She narrowed her eyes at him, and so he narrowed his back at her. The professor then looked at the nurse, telling her to leave with his mighty gaze.

And so Poppy Pomfrey left the room.

"Her…mione…" Draco kept muttering, "Herm…ione. Hermione… _Mine…_"

Even though she thought Draco was unconscious, she still could sense certain possessiveness in his voice. It was frightening. He _wanted_ her. He wanted her _for real_. He knew no barriers at all to get her. That blonde, skinny boy had just killed Ron to get her to himself.

_What a disgusting, twisted mind! _

And then, just as if she couldn't oversee it, she saw a letter in his hands.

Snape spoke to her.

"It has magically appeared as he started muttering your name." He said.

Hermione looked at him and frowned.

"How do _you_ know?" She snapped.

"Draco's my godson, and I happen to care for him. So when I woke up from unconsciousness, I didn't stop checking on him. The fourth time I checked, the letter appeared." He explained. "Don't you tell me, the Know-It-All Hermione Granger, didn't know about the myth."

"Myth?" She asked, curious.

"The Blood Letter." Snape stated, matter-of-factly. "Haven't you heard?"

Hermione shook her head, her eyes never leaving Snape's. Snape huffed at Granger's apparent ignorance.

"The Blood Letter happens to be a letter that magically appears in the hands of a wizard while he´s unconscious. The reason why it appears? Bounding."

Hermione's chocolate eyes opened widely.

"_Bounding!?_ " She almost freaked out, "What's that supposed to mean?!"

"It means that magic considers a witch and a wizard to be together for all eternity. Once the Blood Letter is in the hands of a wizard, with a name written on it, there is no turning back, both witch and wizard are to be bounded." Snape explained, "And since Draco doesn't stop muttering your name, I suggest you have a look at that letter."

Hermione didn't trust Snape, she never did. But somehow, she felt something deep inside her that screamed for her to have a look at it. The voice of curiosity. Damn her for being too curious!

Slowly, very slowly, she went over to Draco's bed and carefully touched his hand, in order to take the piece of parchment he was holding. Trembling, with a heavy panting and with her heart beating so fast as it did, Hermione started unfolding the letter.

"Well?" Snape asked.

_Hermione_.

She gasped, as she led her hand to her mouth to cover her surprise. No, it couldn't be. It couldn't be her name, it just couldn't! She couldn't be bounded to a murderer! NO! She refused!

"Well?" Snape asked again, this time, more impatiently.

"It's… my name." She confessed.

"Well, then you have no choice. The Prophecy strictly says so."

"What Prophecy?" She asked in irritation, "What are you talking me about?"

Draco started to wake up. Hermione didn't notice, but Severus did. The blonde looked at him, nodding his head. Severus focused on Hermione once again as he started reciting it.

"_What magic has done, no man can undo. And with this letter, my heart belongs to you._"

Hermione gasped in complete shock.

"My heart belongs to you, sweetness." Draco suddenly spoke, catching Hermione's entire attention, "And when you less await it, _you _will find a Blood Letter with _my_ name on it. And _then you'll belong to me._"

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**YAAAY! CHAPTER NINE! I HOPE YOU LIKED IT! **

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	11. She'd belong to him

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**The Blood Letter**

**Chapter X: She'd belong to him. **

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Hermione shook her head. No. She wouldn't be finding a Blood Letter with Malfoy's name written on it anytime soon. She just refused. The blonde right in front of her did not only awake her deepest fears, but also her burning fury and her most disgusted repulsion.

"Cut it, Malfoy." She spat, as she wrinkled the piece of parchment, "Neither does your heart belong to me, nor will mine ever belong to you. This Letter means absolutely _nothing_. As professor Snape said, this just happens to be a mere _myth_. And tell you what, you Slytherin: Myths are not entirely true."

"Exactly, not _entirely_." Draco stated, "But as my Godfather just said, this letter appeared in my hands while I was unconscious. So, there you go, sweetness: This part of the myth, the Blood Letter _per se,_ is _true_."

"I don't believe it." She refused as she shook her head. "I don't."

Draco humorlessly chuckled as his mercury gaze focused on her feminine silhouette. Ah, gods, she was beautiful.

"You're stubborn, sweetness. I like it." He smirked, "But you really should stop denying facts. You really should stop denying _me_."

"Denying facts!? How dare you, you bloody ferret!" She yelled angrily, as she felt her eyes go all watery, "_You_ are the one who has to stop denying the fact that _you were to one _that conjured the typhoon just to kill Ron! You're the one who has to stop denying the fact that _you_ are a murderer!"

The slimy blonde smirked evilly.

"And who told you I was denying that? _I_ happen to be _fully_ okay with it."

"You disgust me." She huffed, as she made a face.

Snape didn't notice Draco was using Legilimency on him while he talked. He didn't notice that the blonde had actually heard him thinking he disgusted him too.

'Such a crooked mind. He's killed a person! And he doesn´t even regret it! He has no feelings at all, he's just as empty as the Dark Lord!' Snape thought. 'It's… it's…'

Draco looked at him, shooting him a cold glare. And right then, Severus saw the figure of his godson inside his mind. Silvery blonde hair, dead pale skin and skinny body. His eyes, deadly. As always.

'You may think it´s repulsive, Severus, and it might as well be for you.'

'Draco-'

'–Shut it. If you don't want to listen to this conversation any further, then I suggest you just leave. And I hope I don't have to tell you that if _anything_ slips out of your tongue, note that I won't even bother risking my life to get you killed. _I_ will be killing you as painfully as it goes before you fucking know it. Understood?'

Severus gulped as he slightly nodded at him.

'Good.' The blonde said, 'Now leave.'

He then stood up quickly, grabbed his wand and went, not forgetting to send a warning look at Mudblood Hermione Granger, who just happened to be frowning at him.

'Oh, and Severus…'

Snape looked at him once more, a frown drawn on his face.

'Get Slughorn in here as soon as I'm done talking to my girl, will you? I've got some business to discuss with him.'

'Your mind is disgusting.'

'Better to be disgusting and earning, allowing me to control any fucking person; than pure and forgiving, making me surrender, just like you did.'

Snape huffed, shook his head and went. His godson was a psychopath.

"You were saying, sweetness?" He mocked, "I lost track of things, you know."

Hermione grieved her teeth. That blonde truly did have a fucking nerve!

"I said that you disgust me to no end."

Draco chuckled.

"You won't say the same once I get to fuck you, my sweet." He stirred a sexy laugh, "Once I get to fuck you so hard you cum on my dick-"

"–You repulsive little prick-"

"Whatever, you know it will happen anyways. And you know you'll be fucking _loving_ it."

Hermione was quiet, but a light red tune on her cheeks gave her away.

"Is that a blush, sweetheart?" He mocked, "Impatient, are we?"

"Shut up. Now, just get to your sodding point, will you?"

Draco felt the situation to be incredibly amusing. He had just confessed her he was okay with killing Ron and he had just told her they would be sleeping together soon enough. And the fact that she actually _blushed_ while she praised to be oh-so-furious was incredibly ironic.

But yet again, he thought it was rather sexy: What did the curly little angry girl's mind picture? Maybe him, being on top of her, violently thrusting into her wet cunt, groaning huskily into her ear, telling her she was _his_. And her covered in sweat, shaking under his perfect body, desperately moaning his name, begging for more, always more. Talking dirty, swearing.

"_DRACO! FUCK! YES, MORE! FUCK ME LIKE THE WHORE I AM, PLEASE! DRACO! DRACO!_"

He licked his lips and her blush grew even more furiously. Draco smirked: He didn't have to use Legilimency on her to know that _that_ was precisely what she was thinking of. She was indeed one perverted little slut…

"Well?" She asked, cutting the awkward silence, "I'm waiting."

"Fine. Well then, just look at it from _my_ point of view: On the one hand, _I_ happen to have very advanced magic skills that even allow me to _toy_ with magic as much as I want. If I want to conjure a typhoon, I know I can do it, I just have to say the spell and there: I have magic at my entire mercy."

Hermione couldn't believe what she was hearing. Malfoy was _actually_ telling her he _did_ conjure the whirlwind. He was telling her it was like a children's game to him. She just couldn't believe Malfoy had such psychotic issues.

The blonde kept talking.

"And… on the other hand, about this- how did you say it? Ah, yes. Murderer thing- Yes, I did kill Weasley. He truly was a burden to me."

"Why aren't you denying it!? Why are you confessing those things to me!? I could just go and tell Dumbledore, or McGonagall!"

Draco started to laugh at her. She really had some sense of humor, didn't she?

"Oh sweetness, how funny you are." He mocked, "Don't you see how pathetic it is to wander around the castle telling people those things? I mean, seriously, _I myself_ got fucking injured at that Quidditch game. _I_ am seen as the _victim_, and _not as the murderer._ It really would be ridiculous for you to go around telling people _I_ killed Weasley, they certainly would think you've become crazy. And, sweetness, _who would ever believe a crazy person? Who would believe you?"_

"Harry would! For goodness' sake, he already knows it, he's already explained it to Dumbledore-"

"-But he doesn't believe him, sweetness. Even though Potter's his favorite student in this fucking school, old Dumbledore could _never_ believe him." He stated matter-of-factly, "Because, you know. Dumbledore's greatest weakness happens to be to only see a person's qualities, ignoring everything else. I happen to be a very intelligent man, a great wizard, who just happens to be misunderstood. Therefore, Dumbledore is more than willing to 'help me'. So, even if _I_ myself told him _I_ killed the Weasel, he wouldn't believe me."

"But you did! You killed him!" She accused.

Draco just shrugged at her accusation, as if he didn't care at all.

"Indeed, I did." He said boringly, "And now I have a nuisance less to take care of."

She couldn't handle it anymore. She needed to yell at him. She just _had to_.

"HOW COULD YOU, YOU HEARTLESS MONSTER!? I didn't even see him that day, I didn't even go to the Quidditch match so I could stay away from him, and so you wouldn´t do anything to him! You said he would stay safe and sound if I didn't come near him!" She cried as she felt angry tears running down her red cheeks.

"Oh now, did I? Well, that's _not_ how I remember it, sweetness. I remember saying he would die if you came near him, but I can't recall saying _anything_ about safety."

"BUT I DIDN'T EVEN SEE HIM AFTER YOUR THREAT!" She broke down into tears, she was completely desperate, "I DIDN'T SEE HIM!"

Draco suddenly huffed. That had made him angry.

"You didn't, but your heart and soul did." He darkly said, "And that's _betrayal_."

"To whom?!" She desperately asked, "To _whom!?_ Care to tell me, Malfoy, because I don't understand!"

"Betrayal _to me_, sweetness." His statement was dangerous, "Potter told me you were crying _over the Weasel_, and I felt… _ignored._ And you know, I really hate being ignored, who doesn't? And trust me, I'll have you _punished_ for it."

Hermione gasped.

"You wouldn't dare-"

"_Wouldn't I, sweetness?_" He dangerously asked, as his mercury, deadly eyes glared at her chocolate warm ones, "Well, mind you and think _again_."

"You wouldn't even _dream_ of harassing me when you've gone so far to even kill a person in order to have me as your possession." She spat.

"I never used the word 'harass' or 'hurt', sweetness. Only 'punish'. You'll be finding out about your punishments soon enough, just when you find your Blood Letter in your hands. Because, as I said, once you see my name written on the letter, _you'll belong to me_. And then I'll be able to do whatever I want with you."

Hermione frowned as she thought and eyed him suspiciously.

"But I don't belong to you."

"_Yet_." He added.

She huffed in annoyance. The nerve of that Slytherin!

"One has to be unconscious to get the Blood Letter, is that right?" She asked.

"Yes, it is."

"Too bad I'm not getting unconscious anytime soon, Malfoy." She tried to mock him, "It's a shame for you don't you think?"

He smirked, making her frown.

"Now, now, sweetness. How would you know?"

"You just said you just would 'punish' me, and not 'harass' or 'hurt' me. I have never fallen into unconsciousness from any diseases; the only way to knock me out is hexing me. But since you said you wouldn't be hurting me, I believe I'm able to think I'm on the safe side, aren't I?"

'Such a cute, innocent, little creature' The blonde thought with arrogance. 'Well, let her be, Draco. Let her think around for a while. She won't even suspect.'

"Maybe." He said aloud. "But I wouldn't be so sure."

"What do you mean?"

"I think I've told too much today, haven't I?" He teased.

"Malfoy-"

"For the third time, sweetness: It´s Draco. Not Malfoy."

"Whatever." She huffed. "Can I leave?"

"You're actually asking me for permission? Wow, sweetness! I'm flattered."

_Ugh! His fucking nerve!_

"I'll be leaving now." She stated as she turned around.

"And where's my good-bye kiss, Sweetness?" he asked teasingly,.

"I hope you root in fucking hell, _Draco_." She said between her teeth as she took her first steps to leave the room.

"Funny, I know of a person that currently _is_ doing that. Ronald Weasley was his name, wasn't it?" He bitterly replied to her.

"I hate you." She said in a real bitter whisper, while she had to resist to the temptation to break down in tears again. "And I always will."

"You know, sweetness, two can play that game. You don´t believe me _and I don't believe you when you say you hate me_." He simply said.

Hermione glared at him. He simply shrugged and stretched his arms.

"Now, since I'm not getting any kiss because you're in that grumpy mood again, I think I may be having some nice sleep and some nice erotic dreams of us both having hot wild sex." He teased, "And don't worry sweetness. They'll become true soon enough, once the Blood Letter appears in your hands."

And then the Gryffindor princess left. She couldn't help but feel scared: Maybe she started to believe in that myth. Maybe she would get that Blood Letter with Malfoy's name written on it. And then… And then…

_She'd belong to him._

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	12. Only a dream

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**WARNING: This chapter is a VALENTINE'S SPECIAL. This means this is going to be very detailed, and really, when I say 'detailed', I also mean 'detailed', so, if this is not your cup of tea, don't read! **

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**The Blood Letter**

**Chapter XI: Only a dream. **

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Draco, just as he had told Hermione, was having some erotic dreams. They were at the Manor, in his huge bedroom, lying on his king-sized bed.

Unconsciously, the blonde smiled and licked his lips: In his dream, he saw his sweet Hermione standing in front of the bed, only dressed with a figure-hugging rose print black lingerie, making a beautiful contrast to her creamy skin, her brown curls falling down her shoulders like golden waterfalls; strip teasing right in front of his mercury eyes. Her smile was sexy, and suggestive, somewhat dirty; and her chocolate warm eyes were melting because of the hunger she had for him.

She licked her lips seductively as she led her hands behind her back, unclasping her sensuous bra. Slowly, very slowly, she let it fall down her shoulders, showing him her perfect breasts: They were petite, round and silky, and with pink, round, hard nipples. She started caressing them with one hand, as she led her other hand to her mouth to caress her under lip, in order to seduce him. And God, he was starting to get really horny.

The Gryffindor princess took two sexy steps towards him; a wild look in her eyes. She pushed him roughly onto the bed and got on top of Draco. She started moving her hips slowly against his crotch; she was almost belly dancing on it, while she gave him sweet, little pecks on his lips, wetting them. She then focused on his neck and started to suck on it, making sure she left a mark. Her hands were unbuttoning his cotton black shirt, teasing him a little; so she could start caressing his torso when she had finished with his buttons.

Hermione smelled sweet: Like French vanilla, African cinnamon, Caribbean coconut milk, Swiss chocolate, Italian coffee and Russian anise. It was so damn sweet, so damn sensual, that had to be a fucking sin.

Her tiny hands had gotten rid of his black shirt and were wandering all around his torso, focusing on his well formed chest, putting pressure in her caresses, giving him a nice, long massage. Then they would concentrate rather on his nipples, her thin fingers would pinch them in order to make him groan out of pleasure.

A sensual, nasty giggle escaped her mouth as she heard him moan: She was licking her way down from his neck to his chest, while her hands started pulling down his trousers. He kicked them off his legs, so Hermione started to take care of his big erection. She started caressing his manhood above his pants, making his lump grow even harder. He groaned again, and so that kinky giggle escaped her lips once more.

Draco was holding her curls in his hands, pushing her down, impatient for her to suck his cock. He heard her laugh sensually, softly whispering dirty things while she knelt down in front of him. He felt her hands pulling his pants down and so freeing his erection, as he felt her lips kissing his testicles and one of her hands stroking him.

The blonde closed his eyes and pulled his head back, completely lost in pleasure, as he roughly caressed Hermione's hair. God, she was so fucking perfect at it. Her warm mouth felt so brilliant on his balls, he loved it.

"Fuck…" He moaned, "Fuck, sweetness…"

Again, she stirred a naughty laugh, as she sucked hard and then slightly bit one of his testicles, stroking his manhood even faster and harder, making him scream in purest pleasure.

"FUCK!"

Then, Hermione's tongue gave a long, wet, warm lick across Draco's penis, from the balls to the head. He had to admit, she was talented: She spit on the head and started to trace circles around it with her tongue, as she started to suck hard on it, tasting all of his pre-cum.

Her hands were stroking his large as her mouth took care of the head, she wanted to taste more, _much more._ In his dream, Hermione fucking Granger was his personal dirty little slut. _His_ whore. And god, he fucking loved her to no end.

And right then, when he just thought it couldn't get any better than that, her mouth started sucking the whole of his large dick: Her soft lips were stroking his hard cock, as her tongue licked it, making sure it became wet. One of her hands was massaging his balls, pulling on them, sometimes even pinching them softly. The other hand focused on putting pressure on his asshole, caressing his ass line, always back and forth.

The blonde could feel his cum build in his testicles; some of it was even on its way up to his large penis, as Hermione was sucking it out. God, it felt so fucking good: It was kind of ticklish, pleasant and pressuring at the same time; it caused shivers running all through his spine, forcing his head to pull back, forcing his mind to go all blurry: Every single coherent thought, every single plan he had worked on, every single idea, was _gone_. Everything Draco could focus on was the immense pleasure his Hermione was giving him.

His hips started thrusting into her mouth involuntarily, as he felt like a wave of fervor rushing through his body, giving him goose bumps, causing his already heavy breathing go even heavier, and causing his moans, groans and screams go even louder than they already were. His cock was harder than iron, and it was ready to explode.

Draco was going to cum very soon. Oh, yes. And he was going to cum inside her mouth, forcing her to take his sperm all the way down her throat. He had already stated it: Hermione was his little whore. And as a good whore, she would swallow every drop of his sperm, until his fucking dick was dry.

Malfoy opened his eyes; his vision was blurry, but it was clear enough to see that Hermione was deep throating him; she was taking him all the way in. And fuck, his cock felt so warm deep inside her mouth; he didn't want it to get cold again, so he grabbed Hermione's hair and forced her to deep throat him until she started gagging.

_One, two, three, four, five…_

His breathing was so heavy; he couldn't take it. His heart was beating rapidly; he felt a very welcoming pressure on his chest: His orgasm was about to come.

_Six, seven, eight, nine…_

"F-Fuck… FUCK!" He moaned, "So hard… Never been so fucking hard- Fuck, I'm going to… FUCK!"

And then he came inside her mouth. Hard.

_Ten_.

"Swallow me, sweetness." He almost begged, "Come on, take me. Don't leave a fucking drop."

And so she did. Pulling away from his cock; she faced him from below and showed him she was his pretty little obedient girl: She swallowed his cum down, gave his dick one more last kiss, looked up at him; a wild look on her beautiful face, and licked her lips.

"That was delicious." She purred.

Well, _that_ was what he called a fucking blowjob.

But now was her turn.

Grabbing her hair again, he pulled her up to him and started devouring her mouth: Her tongue still had some rest of his cum, and so the depths of her mouth tasted rather salty, combined with a tune of bitter. God, that kiss was palatable.

Their tongues fought for control over each other's mouths; it was a delightful battle. Draco seemed to be the winner, as he had bitten his kitten's tongue softly, and then sucked on it, making her moan. Her moans were music to him; they were some sweet, melodious sounds that pleasured his ears. She sounded like a goddess to him; _his_ goddess.

_She was his_.

Draco started kissing her neck and sucking hard on it, leaving hickeys everywhere, while his hands caressed her arms up and down, going up to her shoulders and back down to her breasts: They seemed to fit perfectly with the palms of his hands, it was as if they had been made for him. Indeed they had. He squeezed them softly at first, and hard at last. He massaged them in circular, regular and slow moves, as he felt her breathing become heavier.

His expert tongue licked its way up to her ear, biting on her earlobe and on pulling on her helix. He licked her tragus and stirred a sexy, dirty purr into his ear, as his fingers started to pinch her nipples and pull hard on them, making them harder than they already were. She moaned desperately and he purred again.

He kissed her cheek, and sucked on it, just to go down his way to her neck and then to her breasts, ready to imbibe them. He started by biting her hardened nipples, and caressing their pinky aura with his tongue. Draco then pulled away and started blowing on them, creating a naughty contrast between warm and cold: Hermione pulled her head back as she moaned, helpless. It just felt so divine, so heavenly.

She grabbed Draco by his hair and pulled him to her breasts once again, as if she wanted him to keep sucking on them. He smirked. His mouth would take care of his tits for a little while more, but his hands wouldn't: They had already wandered down her flat belly, dispensing soft tickles and setting slight pressure on it. And it was so close to her intimate zone that Hermione had to moan out loud, as she felt her pussy started to get wet.

His hands divided: one of them went over to her back and down to her round ass, roughly grabbing it and pulling her closer to him, while the other went straight down under her sexy lingerie panties, and started to play around with her clit.

"FUCK, DRACO!" Hermione let out a loud scream, as she felt his fingers toy with her most delicate zone, "FUCK!"

Draco smirked against her belly.

"God, you're so fucking wet…" He stirred a sexy, evil laugh, as he licked her belly button. "You like that, don't you, my little whore?"

"Y-yes! Fuck, Draco, give me more! More! Fuck!"

"You horny bitch…" He whispered, more to himself than to her, as his smirk grew wider.

Draco's fingers were now not only playing with her clit, but also with her pussy lips: They parted them and pulled them together again, they stroked them until her lips were as swollen as it went.

The blonde ripped her panties away; as his hands roughly spread Hermione's legs, showing him the beauty of her wet, hot pussy. Or even, showing him her entire beauty: God, there she was. On the bed, her smoking hot body covered in spit and sweat, heavily panting, and furiously blushing. Her brown curls had gone wild all over the pillow, making her look even hotter than she already was. Her legs were spread, and she was helpless: Hermione was at Draco's entire mercy. And she fucking loved it.

He bent down to her pussy and started licking her clit, as he inserted two fingers inside her, pumping in and out as rough and as hard as it went. He found himself loving the sound of her folds: It was a kind of gobbling, a smacking, in a way. It was so hot, so sexy.

"Fuck you're so tight…Oh, fuck…" He moaned.

"FUCK! FUCK, DRACO!" She screamed, "F-FUCK! YES! RIGHT THERE! FASTER, PLEASE! MORE! M-MORE!"

Her pussy tasted so delicious: it was wet and her pre-cum made it all creamy. It wasn't salty; on the contrary, it was sweet, just like her. It was all sweet, creamy, wet and tasty. The best meal he'd ever had. And that was all his.

Her legs started to tremble in anticipation, and her hips involuntarily thrust against his mouth. A wave of pleasure was overwhelming her, as she arched her back and pulled her head back. Her eyes were shut, still picturing Draco eating her pussy, licking all around. She grabbed his platinum blonde hair, and pulled his face closer to her pussy, as if she wanted him to eat her fully out.

"FUCK, I'M GOING TO C-"

"Cum for me, sweetness…" He ordered, as he gave a hard suck, "Fucking come for your daddy! NOW!"

Draco had pulled his fingers out of her pussy just to fill her asshole, and stick his tongue inside her cunt. He sucked her sweet juices out of her, and kissed and bit around. God, she tasted so fucking good.

"CUM FOR ME! NOW!"

"OH, FUCK!" She screamed, as she felt herself cum hard.

"Good girl."

And there it was: just what Draco had always dreamed of: White cream streaming out of Hermione's wet, swollen pussy. God, it looked so delicious, and it tasted even better. He licked her dry, swallowed some of her cum, and kept a bit inside his mouth. Draco went up once again and French kissed her, sharing her sweetest cum with her. They both moaned, lost in passion.

"Draco, please! Fuck me, now! I want to feel your fucking cock, please… Oh, fuck!" She moaned.

He positioned himself between her legs, ready to thrust into her. He tongue fucked her mouth again, sucked on her cheek and bit her earlobe hard once more before whispering:

"You want me to fuck you hard, sweetness, don't you?" He teased, "You want me to fucking destroy your sweet pussy, you fucking whore!"

"Yes!" She moaned helplessly, "PLEASE! PLEASE, DRACO, FUCK ME!"

He spanked her ass and bit her earlobe once again.

"How badly do you want this cock?" He teased again, "How badly do you want me to fuck you, sweetness?"

"BADLY! PLEASE! PLEASE, DRACO, PLEASE FUCK ME AS HARD AS YOU CAN! PLEASE, PLEASE!" She begged. She had no control over her mind; everything she cared about was her desire.

He chuckled sensually, as he whispered into her ear.

"Touch yourself, and then I´ll fuck the shit out of you."

And so she did. One hand went down to her wet cunt and started rubbing her clit in little circular and fast moves, the other entered her pussy and stroked in and out rapidly, until she finally squirted again. Draco masturbated at the sight: She was there, right in front of him, blushing and touching herself as if there was no tomorrow. She was there, screaming and moaning, completely lost somewhere outside reality, in their sexual world. And there she was, desperate for him to fuck her, begging like a little slut.

And then she came again.

"FUCK!"

And yes, fuck, _indeed._ Right when he was about to enter her went cunt, he started to hear blurred steps coming towards them, and the image of his room, of his bed and of his Hermione slowly disappeared.

It had only been a dream.

_Fuck._

~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~

**SOOOOO, THE THING GOT HEATED! Still, I hope you liked it! **

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	13. His Heart belongs to Me

**THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU AND THOUSAND TIMES THANK YOU FOR ALL YOUR KIND REVIEWS, FAVS AND FOLLOWS! OMG, I JUST CAN'T BELIEVE IT! IT'S SO AWESOME! YOU PEOPLE ARE AWESOME! THANK YOUUUUU! **

**Enjoy your reading! **

**The Blood Letter**

**Chapter XII: His heart belongs to me.**

~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~

Professor Horace Slughorn was at his office, an enormous caldron right in front of him. Next to him was a table with different kinds of species lying on it. His hands were automatically working, just as if they were a kind of machine: They cut and chopped rapidly, but very carefully at the same time.

"Unforgivable… Potion…" He muttered, his real self lost somewhere within the curse, "Unforgivable…"

It had already been an entire week since he had started brewing the potion, and the results were satisfying: The Potion of Perfection, which hadn't any smell, taste or color per excellence; was just as transparent as water. Now everything he had to do was add the new ingredients and wait two weeks, thus making the smell of the potion disappear. And so he did. His rapid hands grabbed all of the chopped ingredients and let them fall into the caldron.

He wiped the sweat on his forehead away with a tissue and threw it away, as he started to walk towards the sofa. He needed to rest a little bit. He was old and tired. No, not just 'tired'. He was completely exhausted. But because of the curse, he wasn't always able to get his deserved rest.

But maybe now… just maybe… he could just close his eyes and fall asleep. Forget about the spell for a while. Just for a little while, just maybe a little bit.

_Maybe_.

Just when he started to feel relaxed, there were three very impolite knocks on the door. He sighed. No, he wouldn't be able to sleep until later: sighing again, he got up and went toward the door, opened it and saw professor Severus Snape waiting in front of it.

The ancient potions master didn't even need Snape to say a single thing, as his dark eyes told everything: Master Draco wanted to see him. Before he could sigh, Slughorn's eyes became completely neutral, as his mouth pronounced his name.

"Draco… Malfoy." He whispered.

"He's at the Hospital Wing." Severus informed him, "And just know that he doesn't enjoy waiting. I suggest you start getting on your way."

And with those words Severus Snape apparated away.

Like a machine, Slughorn started to walk through the corridors, not too fast and not too slow, not wanting to lift any suspicions. His emerald gaze was completely lost, though. Whenever Draco Malfoy called him, his eyes would lose to him. Always.

Ten minutes later, the ancient professor finally arrived to the Hospital Wing. His steps were meant to be quiet, yet the sole of his shoes was way too loud, causing an irritating echoing sound all around the Wing, and waking Draco up from his sleep.

Slughorn saw him slowly open his eyes, as he saw the irritation in them. He gulped. Horace only hoped Draco would have a bit on mercy on him.

~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~

Hermione couldn´t believe it. The Blood Letter. The Prophecy. Her name. And all seemed to just lead to Draco Malfoy. And just one question arose: _Why_?

The Gryffindor princess looked down at her hand, which was holding the Blood Letter Draco had given her. Carefully, she started unfolding it, as if she wanted to make sure that her name was indeed written on it.

There: written in dry, dark red blood.

_Hermione_.

She frowned, as she didn't understand. Why her? Why not another girl? She didn't remember specifically asking him that question, but still, it didn't make any sense: Draco Malfoy had always hated her, and then, one day, he decided to… like her? Love her? No. He decided she had become his obsession. He had even killed one of her best friends in order to stay away. And honestly, she didn't know how much further in he could push the whole murdering situation. She was scared: She had always known absolutely everything, and now she found herself in an unknowing position. And that irritated her: Malfoy was always a step forward, and she didn't seem to be able to overtake his thoughts.

He was clever. Too clever: Cleverer than her.

But now that he was incapable of moving, due to his injuries, maybe she had the chance to go to the library and search on wizarding tales and on the Malfoy family tree.

With a decided pace, she led her steps to the library. She entered the enormous and empty room and started with her research: She would register every bookshelf, every section. And if that wasn't going to be enough, she would visit the restricted section, too. Not only for the tales, of course, but also to learn a few tricks about Dark Magic. If she wanted to follow every step of his, she had to think like him. She had to _act_ like he did.

She started with the fairy tales. She needed information on the Blood Letter.

_Wizard Tales; Fantastic Wizardry, Magical Witchcraft. _Those seemed to be the most convincing books.

"This is going to take long…" She whispered to herself.

And then, she submerged into her lecture, while her hand folded her Blood Letter again.

~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~

"My Lord, professor Snape told me you wished to see me?" Horace politely said.

Draco's mercury eyes never left Slughorn's gaze. The old man had interrupted him during the best part of his dream, and he was feeling kind of grumpy. But still, Slughorn looked so helpless. And so… prepared to follow any of his orders, to fulfill them. Well, maybe he would let that one pass.

Draco stretched his arms and legs as he started to lift his body into a sitting position. He cleared his throat before speaking and used the chance to smirk.

"Yes, Horace. I wanted to see you. I need you to do me another favor."

"My Lord?"

Draco cleared his throat once more. Sheesh, he needed to drink something, his throat was completely dry. Once Slughorn was gone, he would tell that old nurse to get him some pumpkin juice.

"You see… There's an interesting myth, 'The Blood Letter'." He explained, "Its prophecy is a kind of a marriage law, a bonding, if you wish. Just, the Blood Letter only appears if the witch or wizard is unconscious."

"I… understand, My Lord."

"Very well, Horace." He arrogantly replied, "Look, since I've received a Blood Letter, I am to be bond: My heart belongs to a witch. The only problem is, her heart does not belong to me _yet, _and she refuses to give it to me. The only way she can belong to me is her getting a Blood Letter with my name written on it, but as I said…"

"…The Blood Letter only appears when the witch is unconscious." Horace finished his sentence, causing Draco smirk somewhat proudly.

"Exactly, Horace. And you know… " He said, trying to fake casualty, "I've talked to her. Apparently, the only way to get her unconscious is knocking her out, meaning, hurting her. But I don't wish to hurt her, professor. In any way. And here's where your part comes."

Horace Slughorn frowned, as he gasped.

"Do you want me to hurt her?" He asked in disbelief.

Draco laughed through his nose.

"No, it's not that." Draco assured, "It´s not that… I had something else on mind."

"And may I ask you what you want me to do, my Lord?" Horace asked, some fear echoed his voice.

Draco evilly smirked. He loved hearing the angst in his voice. He felt delighted every time he heard a slight tremble in someone's voice. It was delicious. It was delicious because that reflected the anxiety Slughorn was feeling: He was desperate to know. Not because he wanted to do it, but because he wanted to know about what he _didn't want to do_. But… oops: Draco was in control. And it was not Slughorn's choice to refuse. It was not Slughorn's choice to ignore Draco's orders. It was not Slughorn's choice to ignore _Draco himself_.

But somehow, Slughorn didn't want to listen to what Draco had to say. But still, he knew the blond would tell him, whether he liked it or not.

"I want you to poison her." He answered. "I want you to brew a potion that slowly knocks her out within an hour and leaves her unconscious for at least a whole day."

Slughorn's jaw started to tremble, as his frown grew and his eyes widened. He felt some of his feelings returning to him, even though he felt the power of the Imperius Curse rushing through his veins. It was a strange sensation, but… But there was nothing he could do about it.

"Poison her… _Who_, my Lord?" his trembling voice asked.

Draco smirked.

"The Brightest Witch of Her Age." He mystically said, as he remembered his hot dream, "_Hermione Granger._"

Slughorn swallowed so hard it hurt as Draco´s dangerous eyes met his emerald gaze once more.

"You have two weeks time. No more, no less." He warned him darkly, "And mind you, if you fail at it, I'll kill you. Am I understood?"

"Y-yes, My Lord." The potions master stuttered.

"Very well, Horace. You may leave now, I still have to get some rest."

"Goodbye, My Lord", he whispered, "U-until next t-time."

"Until next time." He whispered back, once Slughorn had already left. And then, the sly blonde faked innocence and pain, "Mme. Pomfrey!"

Draco cleared his throat again. Sheesh, he wanted a damned pumpkin juice! He wasn't asking for the world!

~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…

Harry had tried. Really, he had tried really hard to convince Professor Dumbledore, but he had still failed at it. He sometimes didn't like his particularity of only seeing people's bright side, especially when the person in question didn't have any bright side at all. He had killed his best friend, Ronald Weasley! He didn't have any proofs, but– God, he just knew it! It was intuition! And his intuition had _never_ failed him. _Ever_.

The Boy Who Lived sighed out in frustration as he went to the library. He needed to at least talk to Hermione; he needed her to believe him. Just her, she was his best friend, and he wanted his best friend to trust in him.

He heard a page turning to the next one as he had entered the library: Yes, Hermione was the only one who could possibly be there. Quickening his steps, he followed the sound. Harry searched Hermione with his eyes: First section, second section, third section, fourth section… Fifth… Sixth…

And seventh Section. There she was, completely focused on her lecture: A slight frown on her face, her lips ajar, lightly moving, silently pronouncing the words she was reading. Her hair falling down her shoulders covering her face a little. He couldn't help but smile a little: Every time he had gone to the library, he had found her sitting like that.

"Hermione." He called her.

Instantly, Hermione lifted her head and looked at him in the eyes: A combination of firry red and grassy green. Harry had obviously been crying a lot. He had been missing Ron. Just like she did. But instead of just crying, Hermione had invested her time into searching for pieces of information.

"Harry." She answered.

Harry went up to her and gave her a tight hug without hesitating. She hugged him back, and both cried on each other's shoulders for a while. They were alone. Not only alone without their third best friend, but also alone in the situation: No one believed them. Not even Albus Dumbledore.

"It's been Malfoy, right?" He managed to say in between sobs.

Hermione only nodded. Yes, it had been him. He had told her the whole story. He had been cold-minded and twisted; he had acted like a psychopath in order to kill Redhead. She didn't know his barriers; she didn't know when he would stop. But she knew a thing for sure: if he kept at it, he would definitely have her in the end. And that thought scared her to no end.

Once Harry felt her head nod, he somehow felt a rush relief overtaking him. At least there was a person that believed him. It was a good sign.

He wanted to hug her tighter, but she pulled away. He looked at her, confusion in his eyes. She just looked back at him with watery eyes and shook her head. She felt a rush of guilt feelings running through her heart, as if Ron had died because of her.

And he had, in a way.

And so she cried.

"It's all my fault, Harry." She sobbed, "It's all my fault."

"What? Hermione, no! What are you saying?" He asked in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

"He wants me." She stated, "And he won't stop until he gets me."

Harry frowned. _What?_

"Hermione, slow down, I don't unders–

"-_He killed him because he wants me!" _She shouted as she broke down into tears, "And… And… And I have him! I have his heart! _He belongs to me!_ Just… he won't stop until _I belong to him!" _

Hermione started sobbing and crying even harder than she already was.

"How many people is he going to murder in order to have me, Harry? How many until I give in to him?" She asked him, desperately.

"I don't know." He said.

Harry really didn't know. He didn't even know what Hermione was talking about, but somehow, he could tell it made some sense. He just had to get to know _what kind of sense it made._

"His heart belongs to me…" She said, "And the worst part is, there is no turning back."

~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…

**YAAAY! CHAPTER 12's up! YES FOR ME! Hahaha, naaah, just kidding. **

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	14. The Chance

**People, first of all, THANK YOU. Really, I have no words to describe how touched I am from all your lovely reviews, favs and follows. I am so happy that this story has reached over 100 reviews with 13 chapters. So, THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR SUPPORT! I HIGHLY APPRECIATE IT! KEEP THEM UP! **

**The following… Ugh. I wanted to update yesterday, but I lay on my bed with migraine. I really hate that disease. Ugh! So, yeah, I'm going to update today.**

**Enjoy your reading! :) **

**The Blood Letter**

**Chapter XIII: The Chance.**

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It was past curfew, but Severus Snape's candle was still burning. His dark brown gaze was lost in the nothingness, just like his thoughts were. His constant sighs were to be heard all around his office, giving the room a certain atmosphere of depression.

And indeed, he _was_ depressed. He was depressed, stressed, put under pressure, anxious, tired, no, not tired. Severus Snape was exhausted: He didn't define exhaustion as simple tiredness, no. Exhaustion was when he was _so_ tired he couldn't even sleep. Exhaustion were those two inexpressive eyes with two black rings under them. Exhaustion was a dead-like pale face. Exhaustion was _not_ just being tired, no. Exhaustion was being _incredibly tired of life. _And as he had already stated, he _was_ exhausted.

Severus Snape sighed again, stating his exhaustion and stress for the thousandth time: He was not only being a servant to the Dark Side, but also to the Bright one. And what he feared most: The Professor was a servant to _Draco Malfoy's side._

Draco Malfoy, his favorite student at Hogwarts. Draco Malfoy, his godson. Draco Malfoy, a pureblooded Slytherin. Draco Malfoy, a twisted minded psychopath. Draco Malfoy, a murderer. And what about Severus Snape? He had been the douche that had sworn to Draco Malfoy's mother to protect him, no matter what. And right at that moment, while sitting in front of a burning candle, while stating how exhausted and stressed he was, and counting the sides he was a servant to, Severus realized how much he regretted that Unbreakable Vow he'd made to Narcissa.

Once more, Snape sighed out in frustration, as he grabbed Lily's picture and gave picture Lily a soft kiss on the lips. It was his most precious ritual.

God, he missed her so much, yet there she was: Smiling softly at him; her innocent eyes gazing him like no one else had ever done before: They gazed him with love. With friendliness. With kindness. And he felt so special. He didn't feel as the good or as the bad one, he just felt as the special one. He felt as the chosen one, in a way. The one Lily Evans had chosen.

_Lily. Oh, Lily. Why has fate been so cruel?_

He cried. God, he cried. He bitterly cried like an unhappy man, the unhappy man he was. He cried for her terrible death, as he hated himself: He had allowed it. He had risked his life for his little mudblood, and the reward? Her death. Her bitter, bitter, bitter death. And he wanted her back, right there and right then. He missed her so much he felt the urge to talk to her.

"Lily," He spoke to her, "I-I-I-I'm scared. A magical war´s about to break out and… and– and there are three sides, and I'm involved in each of them and– Draco's a murderer, with a mind that's even more twisted than the Dark Lord's, a-and, he has me under his Yugo and I-I-I… Oh Lily, what do I do?"

Whenever he felt down, whenever Professor Snape felt the need to cry, and let himself out for a while, he always talked to Lily. Severus always asked for piece of advice, and he felt her presence, always heard her sweetest voice telling him what to do. And somehow, that seemed to calm him every time.

He just had to really focus on her beautiful eyes. He just had to believe she was still alive, and that she was indeed looking back at him. He just had to believe, only a tiny bit. He just had to believe she had forgiven him after her Death, when he had hugged her dead body tightly against his chest. He just had to believe Lily had forgiven him for calling her a Mudblood and for having had this fascination for Dark Magic and Death Eaters. And then, when less expected, she would be there, in front of his eyes, smiling at him, patting his back and explaining what was the right thing to be done.

Her eyes. Bright and green almond-shaped eyes. Her voice. Her sweet voice. Her sharped tongue, filled with just words, always ready to stand up to others.

_Lily…_

And there she was: her womanly figure standing right in front of him: Her thick, dark red hair falling down her shoulders like waterfalls; her pale skin. Her gracious freckles. Her beauty.

He focused on her bright eyes, and couldn't help but see a slight difference: They were shining with mysterious sparkles; sparkles he couldn't really decipher.

"Severus", her ghost spoke to him, "Severus…"

"Lily", he replied, "He… Help me. I beg you. Help me. What do I do?"

"Remember when our friendship broke, back in fifth year?" She asked, her voice airily, ghostly.

Those words were like daggers stabbing right in the middle of his heart, over, and over again.

"I called you a Mudblood…" He stated, regret echoing his voice.

"You did." She dryly replied.

"And then I wanted to apologize–"

"Exactly, Severus. And I told you, you had chosen your way, and I'd chosen mine… Now you see, your way has divided into two new ways. You can choose again. The question arises what will you choose, Severus?"

"I don't understa-"

"You made a mistake the first time, when you chose the Dark to the Bright. Now, right now, you _still_ serve the Dark side, and you _know_ there's a way to escape it."

"But that would be-"

"-Death." She stated, looking at him sharply, slowly vanishing, "You made a mistake _once_, Severus. Now you have _the_ _chance_ to make it better. You have _the chance_ of becoming a better person in another brand new life."

And then, Lily Potter, né Evans, completely vanished, blowing the candle on Severus' table, and leaving him himself panting heavily and shedding many, many bitter tears.

He had to see Albus and tell him. For the first time in his entire life, Severus Snape had made a decision himself.

~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…

Albus Dumbledore didn't find himself able to fall asleep that night. He had too many things on mind. The magical war. The Bright side, the Order. The Dark Side, Tom Riddle and his Death Eaters. Severus Snape oscillating between both sides. Other than that, his almost completely black hand. Ron's Death, and Harry's accusations.

And, of course, _Draco Malfoy._

The ancient headmaster couldn't help but roll his eyes. Of course he knew Draco Malfoy was now a Death Eater. Of course he knew Draco Malfoy had been the one to curse the whirlwind. Of course he knew Draco Malfoy had been the one to kill Ronald Weasley. Of course he knew about all those things! Severus had told him right on the day Draco had been marked. Severus had told him that Draco had been the 'Dark Chosen One', the one who'd kill him. Therefore, it was already clear that Draco would have to… _practice, _thus referring to kill someone_._ And so, Dumbledore thought Draco was actually _forced_ to kill Ron Weasley.

In his eyes, it hadn't been Draco's fault. At least… Not, at all. In his ancient eyes, Draco was just a scared little boy who had had no choice in his decisions.

But those were only his superstitions. Dumbledore would be _shocked_ if he _really knew_ what Draco Malfoy had become. A cold-hearted monster, obsessed with what was his and his only. Something, or even better, _someone_ like, Hermione Granger. But of course, he didn't know about that tiny, insignificant thing. And even if he knew, he wouldn't consider it as an important matter.

Dumbledore just shrugged. He was old, and already knew about his fate: He would die in hands of Severus Snape. Period.

Speaking of such…

The door slammed open. A very desperate Severus Snape had come through it, his hair messy, his face pale, and his eyes completely red. His forehead seemed to be a little bit sweaty, as he panted heavily. There was no doubt: he had run up to Dumbledore's office in order to see him right then. It had to be an important matter, since Severus never talked to him unless it was strictly necessary.

"Good evening, Severus." Dumbledore cordially greeted with his usual calm voice. "What brings you here on this fine spring evening?"

Severus didn't have any time to pause, any time for any kind of small talk, so he would talk in between pants, doing his best for Dumbledore to understand what he was saying.

"Albus…" He panted, as he spoke quickly, "Albus, I can– I can do this– no more. I can do this no more. No."

Hogwarts' director found himself slightly frowning; as if he was analyzing what Snape had just said.

"What do you mean?" He accusingly asked.

Snape swallowed quickly and let out a heavy pant.

"I can't be the one to kill you, Albus. I can't." He tried to explain, "My way… it has split into two. I can go to the bright side, but not in this life. In this life, I'm evil. And I can't handle this evilness anymore."

Dumbledore shook his head.

"We had a deal."

"No… Pl-Please…" He whispered, as his voice didn't allow him anything else, still heavily panting, "Please, I beg you, Albus. I know we had a deal, but I can live no longer. _You_ have to be the one to kill _me_, and not otherwise."

"Severus-"

"-Please." He begged again, "I'm under so much pressure, Albus. You can't even imagine- _please!" _

"You know you can't let the youngest Malfoy kill me, Severus. You _know_ it."

"He's already killed a person and doesn't regret it at all, he's a murderer!" He desperately shouted. "Albus, don't you see? He wouldn't mind at all!"

Again, the old professor shook his head, as his gaze stared through the window and got lost in the darkness of the night. Unconsciously, Dumbledore started caressing his beard, just like he always did when he had to think about important things.

"No, Severus."

"BUT WHY!?" He yelled, "I don't see the sense in living anymore, Albus. I've made the terrible mistake in showing interest for the Dark Side when I was in fifth year, thus ruining my life when I joined the Death Eaters and-"

"-You lost Lily."

Again, those words had stabbed Severus right in the middle of his heart. Yes. Right then. Right at that moment, when he had told her about his interest in dark magic skills. That was when he'd lost her.

"I did."

"And now?" He simply asked.

Snape frowned.

"What do you mean?"

"You've joined the Death Eaters, you've joined the Bright side, too. And now?"

Snape huffed bitterly.

"Now I'm a pet that commutes from side to side. Now I'm a pet that gives countless pieces of information to each side, risking my life every time I merely face the Dark Lord. And I'll have you know, there's not only _one_ Dark Lord, Albus."

"Draco Malfoy. Yes, I know."

Snape's eyes opened widely in surprise.

"Wh– How do you know?" He asked, in astonishment.

Dumbledore simply shrugged.

"Severus, you yourself have told me he´s joined the Dark Side and you yourself have told me the Dark Lord is teaching him very powerful dark magic skills. Of course I know he's been the one that has conjured the typhoon, and of course I know he's been the one to kill Ron Weasley."

"And you aren't doing anything about that?! You _know_ he's killed someone and you're not doing absolutely _anything_ about it?!"

"Severus, _you_ are going to be the one to kill _me_. And I'm not doing anything about it, either."

"That's different-"

"Oh, is it?" He asked, "We´re talking about _death_, you know?"

"But you'd die in times of War!" He tried to give himself some credit; "Death is going to be a common event by then!"

"And who says War hasn't started yet, Severus?" He asked; his mind lost in thought. "There already are Death Eaters infiltrated in this castle. And mind you, you are one of them."

"But War-"

"War _has already started_, Severus." Dumbledore said, sharply, "The _Battle_ hasn't. And all Death Eaters in this castle are already preparing themselves for the big event. And Draco Malfoy is _no exception._"

"But he's killed-"

"And all others have poisoned, Severus. All others have plans to kill. Two weeks before the Quidditch match, Blaise Zabini poisoned Katie Bell. And the week before, I overheard Gregory Goyle and Vincent Crabbe talking to Pansy Parkinson, about a meeting with all Death Eaters, planning to kill a Muggleborn _first year student_." He stated, "As I said, War _has already started._ And as _you_ said, Death is going to be a common event."

With tears in his eyes, Snape started with his begging again. He didn't want to be part of that horrible magical war. No, he didn't. He refused.

"Then, what´s the big deal with killing _me_?" He was hopeless.

"I told you, Severus. We had a deal. _You_ have to be the one to kill _me_, in order to win Tom Riddle's full trust. It's the only way." Dumbledore explained, "Besides, it's the only way to protect your godson-"

"-He's already killed a person, Albus. And he doesn't regret it at all!" he repeated, "He wouldn't even _mind_ killing you!"

"No, Severus!" Dumbledore raised his voice, "A person has been enough for his sanity to handle. I won't have him killing another wizard. He can't kill me. _You_ have to be the one."

"But I want to die." He voicelessly said. "I don't have any interest in life anymore. It's _over_."

Albus sighed. Severus truly was desperate.

"Besides, Albus," Snape continued, "You owe me."

"I owe you?" He asked, in innocence and somewhat surprise. "How so?"

"Yes, Albus, don't fake this unknowing mask, it doesn't suit you. You _know_ you owe me." He spat.

Dumbledore sighed. _Touché._ Yes, he knew. He owed Snape a lot. It was an unimaginable amount of things he owed him. And since he seemed to be so stressed, so out of track, so nervous, desolated… The headmaster sighed again.

"Fine." He finally gave in, "I won't kill you, Severus. But I can propose you a solution that will lead you to the same end, nonetheless."

"What is it?" He anxiously asked.

"We'll start the battle in two weeks. Let all Death Eaters know, including Draco." He ordered.

Snape and Dumbledore's gazes met. It was a battle between two bright emeralds and two black pearls. Both of their eyes shone with intensity, an intensity Severus didn't even know existed.

"In exactly two weeks, at night, I want all Death Eaters to enter the castle under your commando. Once you're inside, I want you to lead them to the Astronomy Tower. Draco will have to face me, yes. And possibly, he'll be about to kill me. But when the right moment arrives, Severus, _you'll_ be the one to kill me, and _you'll_ be the one to win the Dark Lord's full trust."

Dumbledore took in a deep breath.

"And once I'm dead, maybe you'll have _the chance_ to die, too. Good night, Severus."

And with those words Dumbledore apparated away.

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**YESSSSSSSSS! I DID IT! :D I UPLOADED TODAY! HAHAHAHAHAH (Seriously, I though I´d be uploading tomorrow. Oh well :D) **

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	15. Horcruxes

**OMG, I'M SO SORRY I UPDATE THIS LATE! But you know, I have two weeks break and I just decided to travel to Spain, you know :P A little vacation höhö :D **

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**The Blood Letter**

**Chapter XIV: Horcruxes.**

~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…

It had already been a week.

An entire, peaceful week since the Weasel had finally gone forever. Also, it had been a week for him to get his deserved rest. One did not create a masterpiece and get away without feeling a bit tired. Yes, dark magic was indeed a very beautiful thing; at least, that was what Draco Malfoy thought, but it needed train, practice and certainly, a lot of strength. And even though he hated to admit, he had been feeling weak.

The reason? Simple. Hermione Granger wasn't entirely his… _yet_. But still, she wasn't. And that made him focus on other things than magic, causing him to be completely unable to fully concentrate on his full power. Hermione had to be his before he'd rule the world without any kind of effort. And in case she refused… well, then he'd maybe be forced to use more energy than necessary.

Mme. Pomfrey had just come to tell him he was ready to leave, she just had just told him he'd be able to go to school the next day once again. 'Perfect', was all he thought, thinking about his next step: Harry Potter. He'd have time enough to control each of his moves. Yes, brilliant. Fantastic! Excellent!

Ah, Potter, Potter, Potter, Potter. The mighty 'Boy-Who-Lived', rather known as ´The-Boy-Who-Just-Wouldn't-Fucking-Die'. He was starting to feel superior again, wasn't he? That scar-face was starting to play the hero, the hero that would save not only Hogwarts, but also entire England.

Tsk… It was ridiculous. But, oh well. He wouldn't be playing any longer, now, would he?

Draco smirked. No, absolutely not. He would make sure of it. And Slughorn, who, by the way, was coming into the room, his emerald gaze focused on the blonde, would make sure of it, too.

"Ah, Horace." He greeted. "I take you come to visit because you have some news?"

Horace nodded, as he took a little transparent potion out of his pocket and whispered:

"My Lord, the potion you request last week. It's done. I know I still had a week time, but it was brewed quicker than I thought."

"Excellent." Draco just said, "Tell me about this little poison. How must it be applied, and how does it work?"

Horace's gaze got lost in the nothingness when Draco ordered him to explain about the potion. It was rather interesting to see how the effects of the Imperius curse made a person react. Hooking, really. Almost fascinating.

"You have to apply this potion like any other: Drip a single drop into a glass, and wait until the drinker drinks it. And as to how it works: the potion causes the drinker to feel incredibly dizzy: blurry vision, blurry ambient, and lost balance are the main key words. And then, after, more or less 90 minutes, the drinker faints."

Draco smirked again, as he observed the little bottle the old potions professor was holding in his hands. It was fantastic! There was not only enough liquid to poison Granger and knock her out, but it was also perfect to let Saint Potter faint and… well. And maybe, just maybe, kidnap far, far away from the castle and torture him.

His evil smirk grew even wider.

"_Excellent, Horace"_ Draco repeated, "Excellent work. Now, I want you to give me the poison-"

"-I thought you wished _me_ to poison Miss Granger, My Lord?"

Draco glared at him.

"It is rude to interrupt, Horace." He stated darkly, causing his face to go all pale, "Apologize."

"I-I'm sorry, My Lord." Slughorn stuttered, "I really am."

"Apologies accepted." Draco simply said, "Now, Horace. Yes, I do know I said I wanted you to do that part, but I have thought about it once more and have come to the conclusion it is better if I do it myself. So, I'd need you to hand me the poison. Now."

And so Slughorn did. He gave him the poison, and waited for Draco to say something. Anything, he didn't care. But somehow, he had the feeling that if he just went like that, he'd have to carry with the severe consequences. And honestly… he feared Draco so much already, he sometimes didn't even feel capable to hold eye contact with him; he wasn't ready for _severe_ _consequences_. So he'd better wait than just leave like that.

"Anything else y-you need, My L-Lord?"

"Not right now, but I'll let you know soon enough, Horace. Be aware."

"Until next time, My Lord." Slughorn apparated away.

"Until next time."

And with those words, Draco finally stood up from bed, took an apple, and tucked the poison into his pocket. His pace led him to The Room Of Requirement; he had felt the Dark Mark burn during his little conversation with Slughorn. That was the sign Voldemort gave him every single time he wanted to train him.

On his way, he couldn't help but overhear two people whispering. Interesting: It seemed to be a professor talking to a student, more precisely, those were Saint Potter and Old Dumbledore; the shadows on the walls had given them away. He went over to the edge to listen in to the conversation. Maybe it was relevant for his masterpiece, who knew.

But, bugger. He didn't understand much. The two of them had been whispering too quietly, the only thing he'd understood had been 'Horcrux'. The Blonde didn´t know what it was, but it really sounded like Dark Magic to him. Hm, maybe he'd had to ask Voldemort during his training.

And maybe, just maybe, if the Dark Lord was in a good mood, he'd teach him.

~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~

An entire week.

A week since Ron's tragic death. And Hermione felt more and more guilty with every day passing by. Draco Malfoy had clearly shown her he wanted her badly: Their first encounter at her favorite library section, his heated kiss; their meeting by the lake… _his threat_. And then, right after Ron's death, her visit at the Hospital Wing, and his confession about being Ron's murderer.

Hermione didn't blame herself for not having seen it. No, that wasn't what made her blood boil. It was rather the fact that she had done absolutely nothing about it, she hadn't told anyone because she had been so egoistic to feel uncomfortable with Malfoy being so overly possessive with her. She felt too controlled by him, and that made her feel uncomfortable to no end. But if she had warned Ron, despite him being with that Brown attention whore, maybe, just maybe, he'd still had been aware of Malfoy's intentions and maybe he could still be alive. But no. She didn't say a word. Even though he had told her, for fuck's sake! Malfoy had actually told her he was going to kill Ron, and… and…!

…And he wasn't alive! Ronald Weasley was dead. And she felt like it had been her fault and only hers. And once again, like so many times that week, Hermione started crying once more.

And once again, once she had come down from the climax of her tears, she'd remember about her research on The Blood Letter. At least, if she had let Ron die, she wouldn't let Malfoy get her so easily. As Ron had said once, 'She was fraternizing with the enemy.' Except for she wasn't. Not this time. At least… not willingly.

She looked at the books in front of her eyes.

_Wizard Tales; Fantastic Wizardry, Magical Witchcraft._

She had read every book, every page, and still had found nothing about Malfoy's tale. Of course she had had the superstition about the myth being false a couple of times, but that wouldn't explain The Blood Letter magically appearing in his hands while being unconscious. Also, that wouldn't explain about professor Snape knowing, either.

The Gryffindor Princess frowned. Then… did that mean it was real? Did Malfoy's heart belong to her? Would she ever fall unconscious, wake up, find a Blood Letter, _Draco Malfoy_ written on it… and belong to him? Belong to a heartless murderer? Just like that?

Would that really be her fate?

She started picturing a future with Malfoy. She imagined herself being like a kind of treasure to him; she pictured herself as something sacral. Something only he could touch, something he could claim as his and his only. And she knew she wouldn't like it at first. She knew her hate for him would grow. She would hate him for having killed Ron, and for having taken her as an object. But the most terrible thing was, she would hate him someday so much, so fucking much, she wouldn't even care, because she would have gotten used to the feeling. She wouldn't even care to share her life and her body, her intimacy, with a murderer. She just wouldn't care for anything anymore. And so, one day she would have forgotten about every event that happened back in the past. It would be like a fresh new start. And so, one day she'd found herself caring for and about him. One day she'd found herself _loving_ him.

And fuck. That thought horrified her unimaginably.

The witch sighed and sobbed. What was she going to do? Escaping fate wasn't Gryffindor; she wasn't a coward. But facing destiny would be betrayal to Ron.

Wait. To _Ron_?

No. Maybe it would be betrayal to her _feelings towards Ron_, but not to Ron _himself_. He had been rather busy snogging Lavender. He had been ignoring her completely ever since the year had begun. She had felt ignored. And she didn't like it. She remembered being mad at him, also, she remembering showing it to him. But what she didn't remember was when she actually apologized. She sighed again: Now it was late. It was _too late_.

But still, she had to move on.

She had to find some information. Just a tiny piece. Please… She needed to at least know _why_ Draco was so obsessed with her. There had to be a reason! Anything!

She looked up at the bookshelf and eyed a very interesting book: It rather looked like a diary. A diary that looked awfully close to the one of Tom Riddle. Hermione stood up and took it in her hands. Carefully, she started smelling it: It smelled like ancient paper and wood; combined with a tune of fresh mint.

Hermione opened it and looked at the first page.

She gasped.

"Holy shit…"

And then, Mme. Pince came over to Hermione all of a sudden and told her to leave the library. It was already midnight. And Mme. Pince had been so rude while telling her to go away, _she had forgotten to take the book with her._ And the worst part was, _she didn´t realize._

~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…

And there he was again. At his own manor, in one of the huge living rooms, stepping towards the Dark Lord. His mind and his thoughts were now filled with hate, Voldemort loved to tease him: That same living room was the same living room the Dark Lord had killed his mother and ordered his father to reduce her into greyish ashes. And that slimy noseless bastard dared smirk, as he saw the facial expression of the blonde: He looked at the room with certain disgust.

"Ah, memories." Voldemort said, "Memories…"

Draco's fists just closed up tightly in anger, until his knuckles were white. Despicable motherfucker.

He took in a deep breath to contain himself from cursing him.

'You're going to kill him soon enough, Draco.' He thought, 'Just, stay calm. Stay calm.'

"You wished to see me, Sir?" He asked, as politely as it went.

Their gazes met. Draco didn't fear him in any way; he just stood there, his greyish eyes completely neutral. He didn't want to show any feelings; he didn't want to let him know how he felt at all.

Voldemort spoke.

"Indeed, I did, young Malfoy. I've heard some fantastic news. Apparently, one of Potter's best friends has died recently. It's been Ronald Weasley, as I've been informed."

Draco just nodded.

"And I presume, a whirlwind has killed him?"

He nodded again, trying his best to hide a smirk.

"And let me guess… It wasn't a natural event at all, was it?"

"No, Sir. It was not."

"Dark magic, then." Voldemort assumed, "Dark magic skills I've taught only you, Draco Malfoy. Fera Aer, isn't it?"

"Yes, Sir."

Voldemort smirked.

"I've been told it was a very powerful typhoon. It makes me proud, Draco. It shows I've taught you well. But do not think you're done with these dark magic lessons. You still have to learn a lot. And since you got a clear nuisance out of the way, you shall pick the topic today. Is there anything in particular you want to focus on?"

Draco smirked internally. _Bingo_. Now was the chance to ask him.

"Actually, there is, Sir."

"Then ask away, my heir."

"I've heard about something rather interesting, my Lord. I don't really know if it is called like that, but… does the word 'Horcrux' sound familiar to you?"

Voldemort's eyes widened, as he slightly gasped. The Dark Lord frowned, too. How did that slimy blonde brat know?

He was about to lie, and tell him he didn't know about that. But yet again, he decided otherwise. Draco Malfoy was going to be his heir. And since Voldemort knew Harry Potter and Albus Dumbledore had already destroyed one, and were searching for the rest; he knew his end was about to come, and he had to ensure his line. If he was going to die, he had to make sure Draco got to know about how to get immortality granted, in order to still kill mudbloods and other people who denied to surrender to the power of the Dark Side.

He twirled his wand in his fingers and turned around.

"Horcruxes…" He whispered. "They're dark. Very dark indeed."

_Oh… Interesting._

"A Horcrux is a powerful object in which a wizard can hide a part of his soul for the purpose of attaining immortality, my boy." Voldemort explained, as he started to walk around Draco, always observing his tensed, manly figure. "But you must understand that splitting your soul is an act of violation, Draco. It is against nature."

Draco stood silent, letting Voldemort continue with his explanations.

"Yet again, you've already committed that evil act. You've already murdered someone, young Malfoy. Everything you have to do now is simply… use this damage to your advantage."

_Fascinating!_

"How?" Draco asked, completely hooked. "How do I do it?"

"You only have to encase a portion of your fractured soul into a chosen object with a spell."

Draco's heartbeats were incredibly fast, and he was almost panting because of the suspense in the situation.

"And the spell would be…?"

Voldemort told him, and a terrible smirk was drawn on Draco Malfoy's face. His masterpiece was finally perfect. Unbearable.

'_Hermione Granger, my dearest princess… You are going to be my Horcrux.'_

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**YES! FINALLY! Again, I'm SO SO SO SO SO SO SO SO SO SO SO SO SO SORRY I updated SO FUCKING LATE. Really, I'M SORRYYYY please forgive meeeee! **

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	16. Herpo the Fool

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**The Blood Letter**

**Chapter XV: Herpo the Fool.**

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It had been an entire week since Snape had spoken to Dumbledore, and still, he hadn't said anything to the Dark Side. His reason? Apparently none, He just kept on postposing and postposing it, not wanting to tell them at all. His meeting with Lily last week made him finally realize he hated everything that had to do with the Dark Side or even just with dark magic skills. His only problem was, he had already joined Voldemort's side; he already was a Death Eater, and right then, there was no turning back.

And since there wasn't a turning back, he'd better do it right at that moment. Yes, maybe it was a good idea. The faster he got over it, the better. He just needed to tell Dolohov, Yaxley, and all others and then just apparate to Malfoy Manor. They would convoke an emergency reunion, and so Snape would tell everyone that the magical battle was about to begin.

So he did. It took him hours reuniting them all, and it was a bit difficult to convince some of them in order to follow him, but finally, Snape had told everyone to apparate at Lucius'. And all Death Eaters did: They all apparated themselves at the entrance, waiting for Snape to finally arrive. Once Severus was there, he went to where he thought the Dark Lord was: The Living Room.

He didn't knock on the door. Terrible mistake. It seemed to be Voldemort was practicing, and every Death Eater knew he hated it to be interrupted when he trained. But for his surprise, it was not only the Dark Lord he´d seen, but also his blonde godson, Draco Malfoy. And he wore _that_ arrogant smirk. _Again._

"How was that fun phrase of yours, Severus?" The Blonde mocked, causing the Dark Lord to turn around, "Ah, yes – Haven't your parents taught you to knock on a door before coming into a room? It's ironic how these insignificant things come back at someone, don't you agree?"

Both, Draco and the Dark Lord smirked. Voldemort's smirk showed a shine of pride; of fondness towards Draco in a way. Yes, that slimy Slytherin did not only learn how to use the arts of Dark Magic, but also, he had learned how to use sarcasm in a sophisticated way. He couldn't deny it, Voldemort was indeed proud.

Severus just sighed, trying his best to ignore Draco's comment. He bowed in front of Voldemort, politely apologized for not having knocked on the door, and told him all of his Death Eaters were now waiting outside for him.

"I cannot recall having called the lot of you, Severus." Voldemort hissed.

"I know, My Lord," Severus agreed, "But it was strictly necessary. There is an important matter to discuss."

Voldemort looked at Draco, he just shrugged, as if telling him he didn't know what his godfather was on about. Even though Draco had to admit, Severus had been behaving quite odd lately. Hm, maybe it had something to do with that.

"Very well," Voldemort finally said, "Let's meet at the dining table. Now."

~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~

All Death Eaters were now sitting at their respective places, looking at Severus. He had called them all, and there had to be a reason, right?

Their looks made him feel a bit uncomfortable: His big hands started to slightly sweat, as the air grew thicker; he found it difficult to simply breathe. Snape tried to relax, as Voldemort questioned him a very skeptical 'Well?', and so he swallowed once and cleared his throat, ready to talk.

"Dear Dark Lord, Dear Members," he greeted, "I'm here to inform you about the Bright Side's newest move: They plan on starting the Battle next week, thus thinking they'd have a chance to win over our power. Needless to say, it is ridiculous, but still, I think there is a point in getting prepared."

There was a murmur between the Death Eaters for a short time. Then they all looked at Severus, whose gaze met Voldemort's.

"And I shall ask you, My Lord, how do we proceed?" Snape asked.

Voldemort thought shortly about it.

"There was a vanishing cabinet, wasn't it?" He questioned, looking at his heir.

"Indeed, Sir." Draco answered, while nodding his head, "Back in the Room of Requirement, I've already checked on it. It seems to work perfectly."

Voldemort caressed Nagini, as she passed the Dark Lord's chair. And then he clapped his hands.

"Excellent. It's settled then. If they want a battle next week, a battle will they have." He stated, "Silly Bright Side… They're bringing Death upon themselves. I presume that was Dumbledore's idea, maybe with little collaboration of Harry Potter?"

Severus did nothing. Neither nod, nor shake his head. His dark gaze was completely neutral, causing Voldemort to smirk. And Draco, internally, too.

"In a week, my loyal servants," Voldemort exclaimed, joy suddenly filling his creepy voice, "I will kill Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived."

Voldemort started laughing evilly, many of his followers joined him. But one of them, Draco Malfoy, just accompanied his evil laughs with a dangerous smirk.

'I wouldn't be so sure, Tom Riddle,' He thought, 'I'll be poisoning and kidnapping Potter tomorrow, in order to hide him from you. Potter is _mine_, Riddle. And mind you that in a week, Tom, _I_ will kill _you_.'

Draco lazily looked at his nails.

'But before I do that, I have two people to poison, as I want them to be mine before this battle breaks.'

Draco couldn't help but remember his hot dream with his princess Hermione. Her helpless moans, always begging him for more.

'_FUCK, DRACO! YES, RIGHT THERE! PLEASE, DRACO! MORE! YES, YES! FUCK ME, FUCK ME HARDER, HARDER!'_

He smirked. Everything was settled, and Hermione would be his in no time.

Nagini passed across Draco's chair. And instead of his muscles tensing up, as they normally would, he found himself relaxed, caressing the snake's scaly skin with the back of his pale, think hand. His deadly grey eyes gazed Voldemort while he still laughed.

The Slytherin felt his smirk grow wider.

'Soon,' he thought, _'Very soon.'_

~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…

Dumbledore had looked extremely worried when he had made his announcement after dinner: War had already started, he had told all students, but Battle still hadn't, and they only got one week left until that magical battle broke. Of course, he had encouraged them to be part of it, to claim themselves as heroes once the Bright Side had won over the Dark Side. But naturally, he hadn't forced anyone. 'If someone can't face reality, you're free to leave. I don't blame you, and no one will', had been his kind words. And then, the school reunion had been dismissed.

Hermione went through the full corridors; her chocolate eyes desperate to find Harry. The curly girl had to tell him about something really important; it was about what she had read. . She had to find him, right then.

"Harry!" She yelled, as she thought she saw his face under the multitude, "Harry!"

The Boy-Who-Lived turned around as he heard someone call his name. And by the looks of it, it had been his best friend. Hermione. He went aside and waited for her to come nearer. Once she had arrived, they both headed to their common room together. Of course, they had been silent. They couldn't risk the fact that anybody heard them.

Harry whispered the password in order to enter their common room, and the Fat Lady opened up. Hermione was first to enter, directly followed by Harry. She started casting silencing spells all around the room, making sure any Gryffindor would hear them.

He looked at her. She looked completely worried; there was a very uncommon frown drawn on her face, and her eyes shone with warning.

"Hermione, what's going on?" Harry asked.

"You told me Dumbledore told you a bit about Horcruxes, right?"

Harry nodded.

"Well, I've found something, back at the library." She said, "It seemed to be Herpo the Fool's diary."

"Herpo the Fool?" Harry asked, a confused look on his face, "Who is that?"

Hermione sighed out in frustration. Ugh. He was searching for Horcruxes and didn't even know who the creator was… Ugh.

"Harry, for fuck's sake, what do you even _know?_" She asked, frustrated, "Look, Herpo the fool, also known as King of Serpents, a part from being the first parselmouth, and a basilisk breeder, he's been the one to create Horcruxes. In other words, he was a dark wizard, just like Voldemort, that wanted to reach immortality. Thus, killing innocent people."

Harry's eyes opened widely.

"HOLY SHIT!" Harry exclaimed, "And the bloke wrote a diary!? And he left it back at the library, just like that?"

Hermione nodded slightly.

"It seems to be, yes. There must be a reason for him to do that, otherwise, I wouldn't understand…"

"Which house was he sorted into? Slytherin, I presume."

"Most probably, yes." Hermione said, "But that's not the point, Harry. The point is; he wrote about something rather interesting referring to Horcruxes."

"And that would be…?"

"There is a faster way to kill Voldemort, Harry. You don't necessarily have to find all his Horcruxes in order to kill him in the end." She explained, "You see, there is a piece of parchment Herpo had written with his own blood. It was a letter, and it was addressed to the first person that used the power of Horcruxes."

Harry frowned, as his emerald eyes shone with decision.

"Voldemort." He stated.

Hermione couldn't help but yelp a little bit at the mention of his name, but still, she nodded.

"And is this Blood Letter supposed to be a kind of a general Horcrux?"

Again, Hermione yelped. The Blood Letter. Malfoy. Malfoy's heart. Her. Her heart. Bonding.

_Horcrux._

Somehow, the thing between his wizarding tale and Herpo the Fool built a very awkward parallel: Draco had killed Ron. Draco had the chance to split his soul into one tiny part and create a Horcrux of his choice. And since he had shown her so many times he wanted her so badly, she couldn't help but think Draco Malfoy wanted her to be his Horcrux. And now that the Battle was coming up; now that Death would be a very common event at the time, him wanting to create a Horcrux only made sense.

"Hermione?" Harry asked, "Hermione, you okay?"

She gasped; Harry had scared her, as she had thought so deeply.

"Huh? Oh, yeah, yeah, I'm fine." She said, as she reckoned she would have to talk to Malfoy about that little issue, "You were saying?"

"I asked you if that Letter was a general Horcrux."

She frowned, as she nodded.

"Precisely."

"Right," Harry said, with decision, "Where do we find it?"

"According to Herpo the Fool´s diary, the piece of parchment is to be found at Malfoy Manor."

"The only question seems to be… How do we come in? And when?" Harry asked, "That house is full with Death Eaters, not to mention, Voldemort is most probably also in there. Getting me in there would be a ticket to my own funeral, Hermione."

"I know." She just said, as she started to think about what was to be done.

She tucked her hands into her pockets, and one of her hands sensed a folded piece of parchment. Hermione's chocolate eyes widened: The Blood Letter. Draco Malfoy's Blood Letter. According to what he'd said, his heart belonged to her, thus meaning he couldn't deny _anything_ to her. Absolutely _anything_.

"Harry," She called him, "There might be a chance to get Herpo the Fool's Blood Letter."

Harry frowned.

"How?"

Hermione took in a deep breath, as she took Malfoy's Blood Letter out of her pocket.

"With this-" She showed him.

Harry looked at her skeptically.

"A piece of parchment for another piece of parchment?" He asked in disbelief, "Hermione, no offense, but don´t you think-"

"Will you just unfold it and see what it _actually_ is?" She spat, as she handed him the Blood Letter.

"Fine, fine, no need to get so bossy!" Hermione shot him a deadly glare, "I mean, yes, of course. Uh, I'll have a look."

Harry felt some weird energy rushing through his veins as the piece of parchment touched his hands. It felt… he didn't know exactly how it felt. It wasn't good, for sure. But he'd had to get through it in order to understand what Hermione wanted to tell him.

He started unfolding it carefully, very carefully not to break the piece of parchment. And there it was once more, written with dark, already dried blood: her name. _Hermione_.

"What?" Harry asked, clear confusion to be seen on his face, "Like, _what_?"

"A Blood Letter, Harry." She said, "To be more precise, Draco Malfoy's Blood Letter."

"Now, I really don't understand-"

"-Remember when I told you he had killed Ron in order to have me? Remember when I told you his heart belonged to me?"

"I still don't understand-"

"-Harry, open your eyes! Think, for God's sake!" She cried out exasperatedly, "His heart _belongs to me_. Me! I can use this to my advantage! I only have to ask him to let me into his house-"

"Hermione, this is easier said than done." He warned her, "I clearly remember you saying 'He won't stop until my heart belongs to him' and 'there is no turning back'. What makes you think he won't ask you to be _his_ when you go and ask him to enter his home?"

For the first time of her life, Hermione actually _smirked_. A smirk that was _very close_ to those of Draco Malfoy.

"The myth says that the Blood Letter happens to magically appear in the hands of a witch or a wizard while he's unconscious. In order to have me, he'd have to knock me out. And honestly, why would he even dream of hurting or harassing me once he's gone so far to kill Ron, just so he can have me? I don't think he would, would he?"

Harry's eyes opened widely. He finally understood.

"Oh. Yeah. It… makes sense."

"I won't be his. Not so easily." Hermione stated.

_If she only knew…! _

"Of course you won't." Harry replied with a smile, "And now come on, give me a hug and let's go to sleep. I'm tired."

Smiling, Hermione leant into his arms and gave him a bear hug. She felt safe. Warm. She liked it. It made her forget a little bit about the rest of the world. It made her forget about her parents, that didn't know a thing about her anymore. It made her forget about War and about the Battle. It made her forget about Ron's death. And most importantly, it made her forget about a slimy Slytherin: Draco Malfoy.

All was wrong, but in Harry's arms, all was well.

"Good night." Both said.

She gave him a kiss on the cheek and went up to her dorm.

_Completely ignorant about Draco's masterpiece._

~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…

Draco had woken up early that morning, and a smile was dancing on his face. Ah, yes. What a wonderful day! What a wonderful magical world! And of course, what a wonderful poison!

How did that old man say the poison worked?

'_You have to apply this potion like any other: Drip a single drop into a glass, and wait until the drinker drinks it. And as to how it works: The potion causes the drinker to feel incredibly dizzy…`_

"Blurry vision…" Draco sang, as he entered the Great Hall, his steps leading him to the Gryffindor Table, "…Blurry ambient…" He continued, the poison already opened, ready to drip, "…and lost balance!"

Malfoy took Potter and Hermione´s cups. He dripped a single drop into Hermione's cup, only wanting her to be unconscious for a day; and as for Potter, he dripped three drops; he really wanted to knock him out. He didn't want him to wake up while the blonde was kidnapping him; it would ruin his perfect masterpiece. And no, he wouldn't want that, would he?

"Well, well, well." He stated, satisfied, as he clapped his hands, "Let's hope Potter likes this new flavor in his pumpkin juice."

And with that, Draco left the empty Great Hall. After all, everything he had to do now, was wait.

~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…

It was breakfast time. All four houses, Slytherin, Gryffindor, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff were now at their respective tables; all food appeared in front of them, as Dumbledore wished a good morning. The typical plate with ham sandwiches that refilled itself was there, just like Harry Potter and Hermione Granger's favorite pumpkin juice.

From his table, Draco had his greyish eyes on the Golden Duo, formerly known as the Golden Trio. But, oops. A certain redheaded member had had a terrible accident, hadn't he? Draco had to keep himself from smirking. Now wasn't the time to smirk. Now was the time to just _shut up and watch._

Harry and Hermione were sitting at their tables, and both seemed to be really tired. Too tired, in Draco's opinion. Too tired for them to notice him watching them closely. But, oh well. The less they knew, the better.

And then, right then, there it was. Right there! Potter had taken the pot and was pouring juice into Hermione's cup and then into his.

There, there, there!

'Drink, you pathetic moron!' Draco's mind was practically screaming, 'DRINK!'

Potter's hand had a tight grip on his glass. And from Draco's point of view, everything seemed to be slow motioned. It was making him nervous. Why couldn't that fucking idiot just drink!

'Drink, come on!'

The cup was touching his under lip. Draco's hands clinched into nervous, kind of tense fists; his knuckles were white.

'For fuck's sake, Potter! COME ON! DRINK!'

And there it was. Finally! The juice and the poison, both, were now falling down Potter's throat and reaching his stomach. Now, it was just a matter of time. It was just a matter of more or less 90 minutes time. And in 90 minutes time, Potter would be a nuisance less to take care of.

Draco smirked evilly. Not only because Potter had now made the terrible mistake to drink a poison that would be lethal for him, but also because his princess had drunk her poison, too. Just like his good, obedient and little girl. Of course, he would have rather preferred her to just give in to him; he would have rather preferred her to give him the whole of her golden heart. Ah, but well. One could not always get everything so easily. So, unfortunately for her, Draco had created a masterpiece in order to have her. No matter what she did. Her fate was written: She belonged to him. _She was his._

'_90 minutes, Princess. In only 90 minutes you'll be officially mine.'_

~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~

**SOOOOOOOO! There you go! Again, I'm so so so so so so so sorry for updating SO LATE. I'm sorryyyy! **

**So, I hope you liked this chapter anyway **

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	17. She was his

**Omg, sorry I updated so fucking late! I've got pneumonia and I had to rest a lot, so SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY for updating so fucking late! **

**Wow. I can't believe it´s already been over a month since I started writing this fic! I'd like to show my most sincere appreciation to all my readers, followers, to all who have faved, and to all who have reviewed. THANK YOU SO MUCH! Really, it means a lot to me, and it gives me the strength to write on. So, THANK YOU A BUNCH. **

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**The Blood Letter**

**Chapter XVI: She was his.**

~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…

Both, Slytherin and Gryffindor were heading to one same direction: The Potions classroom. They had a double lesson Potions that morning, Slughorn as their teacher. And one slimy, blonde Slytherin, who had run into the class in order to be the first to enter the room and see the old professor, used the chance to use Legilimency on him.

Slughorn's emerald eyes lost their shine as he saw Draco's many figure inside his mind.

'Good morning, Horace.'

'Good morning, My Lord.' Slughorn greeted back. 'Is there anything in particular you want to work on today?'

Draco chuckled.

'Polite question. But, no thank you, Horace. I just wanted to tell you that Mr. Potter and Miss Granger are going to fall unconscious in the middle of the double lesson.'

'Have you poisoned them, My Lord?'

'Yes, I have.' Draco said, arrogantly. 'And I want you to dismiss class and tell me to carry her to the Hospital Wing. It's an order. And you will obey me.'

Horace's eyes seemed to be hexed, luckily, none of the students had arrived yet.

'I… will obey… you.'

'Yes. You will. And about Potter… _you_ carry that scum to the Hospital Wing. But be sure to put him on a bed far away from my Princess. Wouldn't want that idiotic twat to come near her.'

'Yes, my Lord.'

'Excellent.' He said, as he clapped his hands and let an evil smirk cross his pouty, pink lips, 'Now… What are we going to work on today?'

~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~

Professor Slughorn greeted all of his students to their potions lessons. And he could tell that both houses, Slytherin and Gryffindor, were rather excited to begin with their lesson, as they knew they were about to brew a very powerful potion.

The old master clapped his hands and told the students to pay attention and come around him: he had already prepared such a potion and wanted their students to know how the potion had to look like.

"Now", Slughorn said, a kind smile across his face, "Can anybody tell me the name of this potion?"

Hermione raised her hand, noticing a slight feeling of dizziness as she did so.

"Ah, Miss-"

"–Granger, Sir."

"Yes, please. Do tell us."

"This is Amortentia, the most powerful love potion in the world. It causes a powerful infatuation or obsession in the drinker. It has a different aroma for everyone who smells it, reminding each person of the things that they find most attractive, even if the person himself is unaware of his fondness for the objet of their affection. For example I smell… Fresh mint… expensive cigarettes… French wine… And– Cologne."

Hermione frowned, as she looked at him and their gazes met. Warmth against cool, chocolate against ice, and brown against mercury. She remembered that scent. She remembered whom it belonged to. She happened to remember that scent because he had kissed her so many times. And that scent could only belong to him.

That was the very same scent of Draco Malfoy.

"Very well, that's correct! 20 points to Gryffindor!" Slughorn congratulated. "Amortentia doesn't create actual love, of course. That's impossible. But it does cause a powerful infatuation or obsession. For that reason, it is probably the most dangerous potion in this room."

Hermione found herself frowning again. What was Professor Slughorn saying? She couldn't hear him properly. She couldn't hear anything properly at the time. It was all a mixture of blurry voices, and even though she felt like they were talking to her, yet she saw no one looking into her direction.

"You have 90 minutes to prepare Amortentia." Slughorn announced. "Starting… now."

Harry and Hermione automatically paired up. They went together to a table, conjured a cauldron and started looking for the ingredients. And even though Draco knew he should be jealous, he wasn't: In fact, he was rather happy with them both pairing up. He wouldn't want to be paired up with his Princess and even less her to faint in front of him; letting everyone think he had actually poisoned her. Which, he had, really. But that hadn't been then. Besides, no one knew.

70 minutes passed by.

At their table, both, Harry and Hermione started to feel rather sick. Harry desperately wanted to throw up, but couldn't. The Boy Who Lived felt incredible nauseas, accompanied by a blurry vision. It was as he had drunk too much alcohol, his tongue was absolutely dry: His head felt heavy, and so did his eyelids. An insistent whistle was bothering his ears, as he felt them warm up like they never had. His forehead was sweaty, and so were his trembling hands. Harry Potter was starting to lose coordination: He couldn't hold a knife and an ingredient at the same time, and even though his mind shouted at him he had to concentrate, Harry just couldn't: The ambience was too loud, the earth was moving too fast. He couldn't even stand on his own feet; he had to sit down immediately. And so he did.

From his table, Draco Malfoy internally started to draw an evil smirk: Those three drops were starting to take their effect.

80 minutes.

As for Hermione, it wasn't much different. Her breathing had become heavy; her chest felt rather uncomfortable with the mere action of going up and down every time she took a breath. It felt so heavy; it was as if a person had laid a rock on it. And so she could feel her fast heartbeats violently beating against that rock.

_Lub-dub, lub-dub, lub-dub!_

It was beating so quickly, she felt the beats in the helix oh her ears.

_Lub-dub, lub-dub, lub-dub!_ _Lub-dub, lub-dub, lub-dub!_

Suddenly, her hands lost their firm grip of the knife she was holding. And the echo of that knife falling on the table had been so terribly loud, Hermione had to cover her ears.

But that had been a mistake: Once her hands were placed on her ears, she felt a clear lack of oxygen in her brain, and so her head started to warm up dangerously; giving her the feeling that it was about to explode. That heat blinded her eyes; she saw nothing but shadows.

Her heart went faster.

_Lub-dub, lub-dub, lub-dub!_ _Lub-dub, lub-dub, lub-dub!_ _Lub-dub, lub-dub, lub-dub!_

_90 minutes_.

Potter fell onto the ground. Granger started to scream. Loudly.

"AAAAAH!"

All students turned to see her, many Gryffindors by their side, as they both fell onto the ground, their bodies violently shaking. Hermione's screams getting even louder and even more painful than they already were. Her eyes were shut forcefully, as the hands on her ears made pressure against her head, in order to make the pain stop.

But it didn't stop. It just grew, and grew, and grew.

Draco used Legilimency on her. Hermione's eyes suddenly opened up, as she saw his manly figure inside her mind.

'Give up, Princess. Resisting is only going to make it worse.'

"WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME!?" She shouted out.

'You said the only way for you to get unconscious was to knock you out, so I poisoned you. You refused to belong to me. Now I'm forcing you to.'

"NO!"

'Yes. I got a Blood Letter from you, and you'll get a Blood Letter from me. Because _you are mine._'

"NO! NO! SHUT UP!"

She saw him smirk and laugh humorlessly.

'Stubborn girl… Don't you see? What you're doing barely makes any sense, stop resisting. You're about to lose conscience, and there's nothing you can do about it.'

Hermione sobbed, as she shed a tear.

"No…"

Slughorn made his way through all students and approached Mr. Potter and Miss Granger. He then looked around, saw Malfoy's mercury gaze, and remembered the order he had given him 90 minutes ago.

"Class dismissed." He said, "Mr. Malfoy, would you please help me carry these two students to the Hospital Wing?"

"No…" She repeated.

"Yes." He said, rather telling her than Slughorn.

And then, everything turned black.

~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~

Draco Malfoy carried Hermione Granger bridal style, as he went through the corridors that led to the Hospital Wing. Horace Slughorn, who carried Harry Potter; followed him.

Both were silent: Slughorn had been told to be quiet, while Draco just thought about his Princess. On one hand, he felt slightly sorry she had to go through such pain in order to get knocked out, but on the other hand, Hermione had deserved it: She had actually _refused_ to be his, and even more, she had told him straight in his face that he was a heartless monster that killed Ron. The one she had chosen in order to ignore the blonde. And even though he had told her he felt ignored, she didn't even seem to care. So he told her he would punish her for that. Now there it was: Unconsciousness through pain.

They arrived to the Hospital Wing, and Draco tucked Hermione in the bed. Carefully, he covered her with the blanket, as he kissed her lips softly and caressed her brown curls. Draco looked at her: She was beautiful. She was perfect.

Madame Pomfrey ran toward the two men, a worried expression on her face.

"What happened here?" She asked.

Draco looked at Slughorn and shot him a glare. He wasn't allowed to tell a single word. Luckily, Horace seemed to understand his mercury gaze, and so he cleared his throat.

"Nothing, everything's fine, Poppy." He calmed her with a warm smile, "Just a little accident during potions."

"A little accident?" She questioned.

"Yes. We were working on Amortentia, and you know what can happen if you mix up the ingredients the wrong way." Slughorn kindly explained, "Mr. Potter and Miss Granger seemed to have a little disagreement about what to pour into the potion first, so they lost control and they caused a little explosion. And as they were narrowly near to the cauldron, that explosion let them fall onto the ground. And as their heads hit the floor, they lost conscience. All they need now is a bit of rest."

Poppy raised her eyebrows. Surprising. Two of the best students at Hogwarts. Who would have told?

Again, Draco used Legilimency on Slughorn and told him to lay Potter on a bed and to leave with the nurse. Those two were starting to slightly get on his nerves.

Slughorn obeyed.

"Poppy, why don't you come with me so we can have a cup of tea?" He invited, "I'm sure Mr. Malfoy will take good care of Miss Granger."

"And what about Mr. Potter?"

"He'll be fine." Draco spat, giving them both a look.

Pomfrey was a bit skeptic about it; she knew Potter and Malfoy hadn't precisely been 'best friends'. But, on the other side, she knew Draco Malfoy was, according to what Headmaster Dumbledore and other professors said, a brilliant student with loads of capacities. If something happened to Mr. Potter, Mr. Malfoy wouldn't have a problem to handle it. Besides, even though everyone pictured him as a bad boy, Madame Pomfrey somehow knew that Draco Malfoy wasn't all that bad.

_If she only knew…!_

"Alright. But only a cup, Horace." She said, as they started to leave.

Finally, Draco Malfoy was left alone in the same room as Potter and Granger's.

Now was time to work.

~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~

Like the first time, Draco searched for an empty crystal bottle. Once he had found one, he threw it onto the floor, breaking it into thousands of tiny pieces. He took one of them and made all others disappear. The blonde looked at the tiny piece of crystal he had taken and then at his beautiful Hermione: She was beautiful. She was perfect.

He smirked, as he placed the tiny piece of crystal on his forearm and slightly put pressure on it, while tracing a fine line on his arm. And then came his blood. Red and pure, about to be wasted on a mudblood. Yet again… Hermione Granger was _his_ mudblood. Therefore, it was a very special occasion in which he would be wasting his pure blood drops.

Once he saw there was enough of his blood flowing out of his flesh, he quickly conjured a piece of parchment and a feather and, using his pure blood as only ink, he wrote down a name.

_Draco_.

He cast the feather away and folded the piece of parchment carefully, as if it was even more delicate than a flower. And then, he looked at Hermione, a smile of triumph drawn on his face.

The blonde leant in and placed his Blood Letter between Hermione's fingers, as his lips joined hers in a kiss. He started moving against her lips, as his pale, big hand started caressing her thin fingers.

And then, still against her soft, pink lips, Draco Malfoy softly whispered the spell that would make Hermione Granger become his Horcrux.

Draco slowly pulled away from his kiss and looked at her once more.

She was beautiful.

She was perfect.

And finally…

…_She was his._

~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~

**YES! YES I FINALLY UPDATED! AGAIN, I'M SO FUCKING SORRY I UPDATED TO LATE, BUT THIS PNEUMONIA IS KILLING MEEEEE! (Like, literally lol hahaha) **

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	18. The Invisibility Cloak

**OH. MY. GOD. I'm sooooooooo mega ultra hyper sorry to be updating so. Fucking. Late. I know I've been ill, but that's no excuse. So, my most sincere apologies to all of my readers. I'm sorry! **

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**The Blood Letter**

**Chapter XVII: The Invisibility Cloak**

~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…

Draco Malfoy was standing in front of Hermione Granger's bed; an evil smirk across his aristocratic facial features. Finally. Finally! She was his. His masterpiece finally showed its results. He was so content; he could almost taste the sweet savor of victory.

_Almost._

His head turned to the left, only to see Potter lying unconscious on one of the beds. Yes, he had to take care of him, and then _he would have won._ Just… How to take care of that nuisance? Of course, he was planning his murder, and he was planning to do so by drinking the Unforgivable Potion. The only problem was, it wasn't brewed yet. And as Slughorn had informed him, it would at least take two more months until the potion was finally finished.

And of course, Draco Malfoy didn't have so much time. Rather, he didn't want to let Harry Potter live so long. His reason? Easy: Once the blonde's princess woke up, she would be in denial. She wouldn't accept the fact that she belonged to him now. That meant he had to manipulate her mind, wash her brain, so to speak. And as Draco Malfoy knew, it would be a hard and a very long work. If Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, or rather much more, The-Boy-Who-Just-Wouldn't-Fucking-Die; lived, the process of convincing her to give in and to truthfully belong to him would be even longer than necessary.

Draco smirked: Of course, he wouldn't let that happen, now, would he? Of course not. But now was just that funny thought: Since he wouldn't be killing him with the Unforgivable Potion, what would he be killing him with?

The blonde took swinging and slow steps toward Potter's bed; his hand resting on his chin and his eyebrows raised. His mercury eyes were cold and neutral, as they gazed into the nothingness; showing he was deeply submerged in his thoughts.

"Harry… Potter." He whispered. "Potter… Harry. I'll have to admit, it's kind of hooking in a way."

He chuckled, as he examined Potter´s features.

"What a shame… Weaselette was all over him. Would have been kind of a nice couple, really." He smirked, "Unfortunately, he's going to die. Oh, well. You know what they say: Keep your friends close… And your enemies closer."

Without really thinking about it twice, he slid a hand into his pocket and took his wand. He started to twirl it between his fingers, as he thought about a spell. Which one would he use to kill him? A simple killing curse? No, maybe something more interesting. A cruciatus? Well, he could, but it wouldn't be fun at all: Potter was unconscious, for fuck's sake, and he wouldn't wake up to scream out loud. Draco wouldn't even see his facial features tensing up completely because of the pain. No, the cruciatus curse wasn't fun. A whirlwind? No, too much wasting on energy for such a little piece of scum.

Oh! He knew! Sectumsempra! He had read something about that wonderful spell in one of his godfather's books. Interesting, really. Almost _beautiful_. Apparently, Snape himself created Sectumsempra, with the intention of using it against his enemies. And of course, it soon became one of his specialties. According to the book, the light of the Sectumsempra curse was white, the hand movement had to be slash, and the effect on the victim were deep cuts on his skin, which caused him to bleed to death.

"Beautifully done, Severus." He said to himself, "Really, wonderfully done."

But then he frowned. He couldn't just kill him right there: Firstly, because Pomfrey was still in the room, and secondly because killing him was way too obvious. And it could literally _kill_ his masterpiece if he got caught. By whom? Pomfrey, naturally. That sneaky nurse sometimes didn't know when to shut up. And since he didn't want to risk his life and be sent to Azkaban, he quickly created a new plan.

Potter had an invisibility cloak, hadn't he? Well, then it was easier as he had thought! He only had to go to the Gryffindor tower, fetch it and come back. He then would cover Potter's body with the cloak, would go to Mme. Pomfrey, obliviate her about the fact that Potter had been there, and simply apparate him to his manor. He would imprison him in the dark dungeons and let him be there until Potter woke up.

A wider smirk crossed his pale face. Ah, yes. Everything was so ridiculously easy.

With a decided pace, Draco Malfoy left the Hospital Wing, heading to Gryffindor's Tower.

~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~

The Fat Lady was somewhat sad. The Magical War, or, the Battle, as they decided to call it now, got everyone in a horrible mood, thus creating impoliteness between the students. They didn't smile at her anymore when they stood in front of her, they didn't funnily mess around with her and her singing, and said the password to enter the common room. No. It was much different: Showing all grumpiness they had, they simply muttered the password, and slammed the door behind themselves. She sighed. Hogwarts wasn't the same anymore. And that made her sad. Oh, so sad.

But suddenly, a blonde guy appeared, and he had a smile across his face. Wasn't that Draco Malfoy, the boy who never smiled?

How bizarre…

"Good morning", the blonde greeted, suddenly noticing The Fat Lady's face. "You seem sad. Why is that?"

The Fat Lady sighed.

"Hogwarts is not the same anymore. Everybody is concerned about this magical war coming up."

"Yes, but that is no reason not to show manners, wouldn't you agree?"

"You're right, actually. But I have no right to tell them how to behave towards a lady."

"Who says that? A beautiful lady like you should be treated as such. And it is not prohibited to ask for a bit of politeness, if you ask me."

Was that a blush?

"Oh, dear. You really are one of the polite ones, aren't you?"

"Oh, please, My Lady. I'm just showing you my respects."

Of course, Draco was being an absolute crawler. He _had _to get into that room, no matter what. And if being an insufferable brown-nose and at that, a liar; because he hadn't meant any of the words he had said, then, so be it. He'd do anything to enter the Gryffindorks' common room.

"Oh, dear. You're so polite."

'And you're so fucking dumb. When will you ask me if I await something in retour?' Draco thought, as he made a sad face. 'You better notice this and ask, you freaking Fat Lady! I swear, I'll get into that room!'

The Fat Lady finally seemed to notice. With a sad expression on her face, she kneeled down to face Draco. And then, with pouty lips and a sad frown, she asked:

"Oh dear, what's wrong? You seem to be so sad all of a sudden."

"Oh… No, it's nothing." Malfoy faked innocence.

"Oh, no, dear. Now you tell me. Is there anything I can do for you?"

_Bingo._

'Fiiiiiiinally!' Draco thought with irony.

"Well… In fact, there is, dear Lady. But… Well, it is against the rules. And you know, I wouldn't want to break them."

"Oh, boy, but you're so polite, and you seem to be so sad! Come on, it's just once, for you, I'll make an exception. What is what you need?" She asked.

_Bingo, bingo, fucking bingo!_

"You see, before Ron Weasley died, he stole my…"

He hesitated a little bit in order to think, making the Fat Lady wonder. Brilliant, Malfoy.

'Absolute-fucking-ly brilliant, Draco. Weasley stole my what? Sheesh, of course he was needy, but…'

"He stole your…?" The Fat Lady said, encouraging him to continue his phrase.

"M-my fe… Ferret! Yes! That. He stole my ferret. I miss him so much! And I bet he didn't take care of him." He explained, making a very sad face. "I know it's against the rules, but… I'd need to come into the common room. Please."

The Fat Lady felt bad for poor Draco. He looked so sad! And his poor ferret! Why would Mr. Weasley do something like that? It was very unlikely of him! Yes, she definitely would open that door. For Draco Malfoy and his ferret. As she had said, it was only an exception. Besides… No one had to know.

The door opened and Draco came in, sweetly closing the door behind his back. The room was completely empty, as all students were in class.

The Fat Lady never saw the evil smirk drawn on the face of a poor ferret's owner.

~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…

He had to be quick, he didn't have much time. And he had to be careful, otherwise, people would suspect. Not of him, of course. But maybe of Death Eaters having entered the castle. Which, by the way, was already a fact. But nobody knew, so, it didn't matter at all.

Draco entered the boy's dormitory. God, did they ever open any window? The air was so thick; it was almost hard to breathe. So with a quick hand movement, Draco casted an alohomora on the window and it opened up, refreshing the dormitory's air. Ah, yes. Much better.

The blonde looked around, somewhat amused. Oh. How. Cute. The Gryffindorks were known to be oh-so-brave, but they didn't even sleep in separate beds! Bunk beds were what they slept on! Ridiculous bunk beds! How childish was that?

Chuckling, Malfoy started to search for the invisibility cloak. On the beds, under the carpets, behind the bookshelves, in every corner… And so he continued until he sighed: Yes. The trunks. He had to look inside them, and it honestly was something he didn´t want to do. Because, EW! Some guys hid their most private things –and thus referring to privacy as something literally dirty, like, for example, dirty boxers with already dry semen – inside them. And seeing how needy Potter looked over Weaselette, Malfoy wouldn't be really surprised to find a pair of those hidden in the truck. But he would be disgusted for life.

'Harry Potter, not only known as the Boy-Who-Lived, but also as the-Boy-Who-Wanked.' Draco thought ironically, 'Priceless.'

He cast a quick alohomora on the truck, covering his face with a disgusted expression and not really wanting to look at it. But from the corner of his eye, he saw it: The invisibility cloak, carefully folded.

"Wingardium Leviosa!" Draco casted.

The cloak started to float in the air, slowly approaching Malfoy's pale hand. He grabbed the piece of clothing and hid his hand under it. Perfect. His hand had disappeared.

"Welcome to the show of Draco Malfoy, dear children of Hogwarts. Today, I'll be making a person disappear. Let the magic begin then!" He evilly laughed, as he talked to himself, "From a second to another, Harry Potter will disappear. And because I'm the magician, and because I'm in a bad mood, I won't make him appear again. Tough luck, Hogwarts kids. Your hero is now _gone forever_."

And again, he left without being spotted.

~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…

Ah. That Hospital Wing was starting to get really boring. But, oh well. At least there would be a little more action right now, wouldn't there? Yes, of course there would! Draco Malfoy would make sure of it. Starting right then.

Draco carelessly unfolded the cloak and shook it twice. Then, he went up to Potter and placed himself right in front of his bed.

'So, dear Hogwarts kiddos, here's my trick: Now you see Harry Potter…' Draco covered Harry's body under the invisibility cloak, '…and now you don't. I hope you've all said your last goodbyes. Tsk.'

Part one, done. And now that he started hearing steps coming towards them, he suddenly remembered that he had to take care of that nurse.

For being a bit less obvious, Draco went up to Hermione's bed and sat down on its corner before Mme. Pomfrey arrived. He looked at her with almost loving eyes, as he caressed her soft curls and her smooth skin. Ah, yes. She was beautiful. She was perfect. And she was his.

"Where's Mr. Potter?" The Nurse almost yelled, as she came in. "Where is he?"

Draco's gaze shot her a death glare, as, with a real fast and sharp hand movement, he picked out his wand and casted a spell.

"_Obliviate!_"

And then, there it was. Poppy Pomfrey calmed down at once, as her wide eyes lost their shine. Draco smirked. All he had to do now was tell her who she was. And of course, not say a single thing about Harry Potter, Horace Slughorn, Severus Snape or Draco Malfoy.

"Who am I?" She asked.

Smirking, Draco stood up from the bed, took two large steps towards Pomfrey and looked deeply inside her eyes.

"You will listen to me, as I happen to know who you are." He ordered, "You are Poppy Pomfrey, a witch and the only nurse at Hogwarts. You are known for having incredible medicinal potions skills. Meaning, you heal people in almost no time at all. You work for Albus Dumbledore, an old man with a large beard. He's the headmaster of this school. Minerva McGonagall, also an old woman, comes to visit you every known and again. If she asks you why you are acting weirdly, you will say you don't want to talk about it."

"Who are you?"

"You don't need to know."

"What do I need?" She was becoming hysterical, as she didn't know anything. Tears threatened to come out of her eyes. "I don't understand anything!"

"You need to sleep." He dryly answered, "Here, there are some beds. Lay yourself down and sleep."

She did as she was told, as she reckoned it to be the best solution to her current problem. Before falling asleep, she asked him again:

"Who are you?" She said in a soft whisper.

"Someone you'll never see again."

And with those words, she fell asleep; allowing Draco to go up to Potter's bed, put a hand on his chest and apparate themselves to Malfoy Manor.

Oh. The sweet hour of torture was about to come.

And the honeyed taste of victory, too.

~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…

**OMG. UPDATED! I CAN'T BELIEVE IT! Again, I'm so fucking sorry to have updated so late, but as I told you on last chapter, I had pneumonia, and I've almost gone to hospital… So, yup. Much stress, much coughing and all that shit… But oh, well! Here's the new chappie! FIIIIIIINALLY! HAHAHHA :D **

**So, yup. I hope you enjoyed it! :)**

**Favs and follows are very much appreciated! **

**AND REVIEWS TOOOOOOOO! THEY MAKE ME HAPPY AS HELLLLLLLLL! :D Seriously, they make my day! **

**So, see you on next chappie! **

**Thanks for reading guys, you rock! **


	19. Avada Kedavra

**WARNING: VERY DARK CHAPTER. **

**THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALL YOUR LOVELY REWIEVS! REALLY, THEY'RE SO MUCH APPRECIATED! :) KEEP THEM GOIN'! **

**Enjoy your reading! **

**The Blood Letter**

**Chapter XVIII: Avada Kedavra**

~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~

Slowly, vey slowly, Hermione started to wake up. Her head felt dizzy, and her eyelids felt heavy. Her vision was blurry, and partially blinded by the light. She had to breathe through her mouth, as her nose was closed up.

Hermione wanted to sit up, and as she did, she felt her stomach turn upside down, giving her a nauseous sensation. She felt vomit coming up her throat, as her shoulders and her head suddenly bent down. Her mouth opened and her eyes forcefully shut, and so she felt the poison leave her body through her open mouth.

Luckily, there was a kind of a pot she could throw up into. Well, at least she wouldn't make a mess.

While she puked, her fists clenched up and so they noticed a piece of paper. Hermione gasped, as she turned to see her hands: It was a carefully folded piece of ancient parchment, and it smelled like…

_Fresh mint… expensive cigarettes… French wine… And– Cologne. _

_She remembered that scent. She remembered whom it belonged to. She happened to remember that scent because he had kissed her so many times. And that scent could only belong to him._

_That was the very same scent of Draco Malfoy. _

She gasped again, as she felt another nausea overcoming her. Once again, she bent down and threw up into the pot, as her tiny hands tightly crumpled the piece of parchment.

Some long seconds passed by, and her stomach decided to give her a little truce, so she had the chance to examine the piece of parchment. Carefully, very carefully, Hermione sat up and brought her hands up to her nose, smelling the piece of parchment once more.

_Fresh mint… expensive cigarettes… French wine… And– Cologne._

Her hands and jaw trembling and her forehead frowning, Hermione swallowed so hard it hurt, as she started to slowly unfold the ancient piece of paper.

Dark red, dry blood; his name written on it: _Draco_.

_The Blood Letter._

The Blood Letter magically started to float in the air, as following golden words were written in front of her:

_What magic has done, no man can undo. And with this Letter my heart belongs to you. _

_The Prophecy. _

But…! No! No, she refused! Her heart didn't belong to Malfoy, no it didn't! It couldn't! She… She…! The myth said that The Blood Letter only appeared magically while the witch or wizard had lost conscience, and she… She…!

…And she, Hermione Granger, had been unconscious. He, Draco Malfoy, had poisoned her. He had knocked her out in order to finally have her. And now, he had her. As he had put it so many times, she was _his_. _His!_ Not Ron's, the person who she had actually liked so much, even… _loved!_ But no. She wasn't Ron's. Not only because she was Malfoy's now, but because firstly, Ron was _dead_ and secondly, his heart had apparently belonged to someone else. Someone like Lavender Brown.

She shed a tear. And then two. And then a hundred more.

Hermione cried. She cried bitterly, as she remembered and assumed so many things. Ron had loved her as a sister, completely ignoring her true feelings, and now he was dead. Lavender had treated her like shit whenever she came near Ron and gave him a friendly hug. Harry was being persecuted by the most feared wizard of all time, and his life was at stake.

And her…

Well, her. She had taken her parents' memories away, so they were safe during that magical war, battle, or whatever it was called. She had gone to Hogwarts with some hope. Hope that everything would have a happy ending. But no, it wasn't like that. Everything was horrible: Draco Malfoy had become obsessed with her. He had killed her best friend in order to have her. He had poisoned her. And now, he _had her._ And now she lived under constant fear.

The Blood Letter started to fall, and she grabbed it once again, as it was still floating in the air.

She took a look once more, as she read his name again.

_Draco._

Hermione took a closer look; there was something rather odd about that piece of paper. She turned over the parchment and she saw a phrase. She _knew_ that phrase. It was the last phrase of her favorite book, _Cinderella_. And come to think of it, she had missed that phrase the last time she had read that muggle fairy tale. And it had been right after her first encounter with Draco Malfoy, back at the library.

That slimy bastard! He had ripped it from the book! His reason was more than clear: He wanted her to miss that phrase, as he knew that, whenever she read that sentence, she would think of Ron instead of him. It was pure jealousy! Draco Malfoy didn't want her to think of a happy ending with Ronald Weasley, she wanted her to think of a happy ending with _him_, so _that_ was the reason he had killed Ron!

Everything had been planned, back then at the library.

Draco didn't really care if she came near Weasley or not after he had threatened her. He had planned to kill him anyway. Because he had seen him as an obstacle on the way. As a nuisance on his way _to her_.

And somehow, that phrase started to barely enlighten her: Draco Malfoy wanted to have a happy ending together with her. He felt _lonely_. He felt… abandoned.

Hermione sighed. She didn't know whether to feel pity for him or not, since he didn't deserve it, but… It was really sad to know that a person felt so left by society. So alone. It was sad and kind of unfair, too. No one deserved to be _that_ lonely. Because, once they were, they would become obsessed. They would become psychopathic and do things normal people would never dream of even doing. Things like, killing, for example. Things like Draco did.

The worst part was, a psychopath never regretted. A psychopath was someone who had learned not to care about what others thought about him. And so, that lack of knowledge encouraged a psychopath to do these horrible things. And once the psychopath was newly known to society, he became someone, no, even _something_ everybody feared. And so, the terrible mistake of society was to shove him off, to push him further into loneliness, never giving him the chance to get cured.

A psychopath lived on people's fears, so, the more people feared him, the crazier a psychopath got.

Unfortunately, Hermione Granger belonged to society. She couldn't help but fear him, push him further into his bitter loneliness, as she rejected to bond with him, as she denied the fact that her heart belonged to him, as his to her.

Not really knowing whether to feel disgusted or pitiful, she looked at the phrase once again.

…_And they lived happily ever after. The End._

Sobbing, she turned her head to the right, so she could wake Harry and tell him it was too late. Tell him that she already belonged to Malfoy, even though she didn't want to.

Just…

"Harry?" She called him.

Where the hell was he?

~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~

The dungeons at Malfoy Manor had always been dark, cold, and dirty. It was utterly perfect! That was just the right place Harry Potter belonged to. So, without thinking about it twice, Malfoy threw Potter harshly onto floor, and started to cast silencing spells around the room. Because, there was something he had to keep in mind: A bunch of Death Eaters and Voldemort himself were on the first floor, and considering Draco would be probably hexing the hell out of Potter once he woke up, he thought it would be rather a good idea to take some good precautions.

So, yes. A Silencio would do.

Malfoy turned around to see him, as he kneeled down and took the invisibility cloak off of him. He folded it carelessly and tucked it under his arm. Draco then cast some ropes and started to tie him, so he couldn't escape. With another spell, he undressed him, leaving Potter in his underwear only. He had to make sure his body was cold and sensitive enough, so the torture Malfoy had prepared for him would hurt him until he fucking begged Draco to kill him.

All he had to do now was wait for Potter to wake up.

"So be it."

~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…

Six hours. Six hours had passed by since Draco Malfoy had kidnapped Harry Potter. And finally, oh finally, Potter started to show signs that indicated he was waking up.

Seeing that, Malfoy conjured an Aguamenti, and splashed the freezing water on Potter's body. As response, he swore out loud, as he started to cough. And just as Hermione, he threw up all of the poison he had drunk during breakfast.

"Fucking ew, Potter! Disgusting!" Draco made a face, as he arrogantly smirked and mocked him, "That must've been more than your breakfast."

"Malfoy!" He yelled, "What the fuck, you fucking ferret! Where am I? And what the fuck am I doing naked and tied against the fucking wall!"

"Language, Potter. Language."

"Shut the fuck up and answer my questions."

"You won't like the answers."

Harry glared at him.

"I don't fucking care, Malfoy."

Draco chuckled, amused.

"Potter, Potter, Potter…" He dangerously whispered, as he twirled his wand between his thin, pale fingers, "You really should watch your language and learn some manners, you know. Hm, maybe you're grumpy because you're still a bit sleepy. I shall help you to fully wake up. _Crucio!_"

"AAAAH!"

The pain echoing Harry's voice made Draco smile. Finally. Potter finally was starting to pay for all those years he had pushed Draco into his shadow. He finally was starting to feel how Draco felt every time people would acknowledge The Boy-Who-Lived and ignored the blonde. And that was just the beginning.

Draco lifted up the curse, as he knelt down in front of him, seeing how heavily Potter was panting right then. Priceless.

"Will you watch your mouth or are you going to force me to curse you again?"

Potter swallowed so hard it hurt, as he kept panting heavier and heavier with every second passing by; not really answering Draco's question.

The blonde didn't like that response. So he gave him a hard slap right across his face.

"Answer me. Will. You. Watch. Your. Mouth?" He asked, as he gave him a slap for every word he said.

Harry finally nodded, as his pants were starting to calm down.

"Good." Draco said, as he stood up, "You just asked me where you are. Well, let me enlighten you. You're at my Manor, down in the Dungeons, to be a bit more precise. I decided to kidnap you and tell you a little story nobody knows, as you won't be able to tell anyone."

"You're a Death Eater and you've killed Ron. Now, tell me something I don't know."

"Oh, so you finally made it up, huh?"

"I've always known it had been you-"

Draco bitterly chuckled.

"Oh, really? You don't say. You seemed to be rather surprised when you didn't see the Dark Mark on my forearm. And now," Draco said, lifting up his left sleeve, "you do. Congratulations, Potter. Yes, I'm a Death Eater and yes, I've been the one to kill red head. Such a shame old Dumbledore didn't believe a work coming out of your mouth."

"How would you-"

"-Your precious Hermione told me you were at Dumbledore's office, Potter, trying to get me to Azkaban."

"She wouldn't-"

"Oh, but she has! Not as faithful as you thought her to be, hm?"

"SHUT UP!" Harry yelled, "Hermione told me you wanted her! She told me your heart belonged to her! And that you wouldn't stop until her heart belonged to you! And then… The piece of parchment with her name written on it… The Blood Letter! It all makes sense now! You are behind all of this! "

Malfoy clapped his hands three times, the sound echoing the room.

"Well done, Potter. You got me. But there's a tiny, insignificant thing you got wrong."

"And praise tell, what would that be?"

Draco's mighty and scary mercury gaze met Harry's bright emerald one, which was now filled with somewhat confusion.

"I already have Granger, Potter. Her heart already _belongs to me._ But that doesn't mean I'm going to stop. Because you wouldn't be here if I had. I'm going to take three more steps, Potter. I'm going to kill you first, then I'll kill Voldemort, and then I'll fucking rule this fucking world." He dangerously stated, "I'm going to fucking torture you until you fucking beg me to fucking kill you."

"And then you say I'm the one that should watch his language…" The Boy-Who-Lived whispered to himself.

"What was that?"

Harry gulped, as his eyes opened widely.

"Nothing."

Draco started to laugh at him.

"Oh, just look at you. You've just been cruciated and you still have the fucking nerve to make fun out of me. You slimy motherfucker." He funnily chuckled, "I mean, I'm here, torturing you, I've just told you that I'm going to fucking kill you, and you make a joke about language! Yah, I like your sense of humor. It's so fucking pathetic I still have to laugh."

Malfoy turned his back to Potter.

"Let's see if you can still make any kind of joke after round two." With those words, he turned to Potter, his wand pointing at him, "_Crucio!"_

"AAAAH!"

Harry could feel like each and every bone he had was breaking. At the same time, he felt all of his muscles tensing up completely. His skin burnt and it stitched, too: It was as if thousands of knives were being stabbed into his body. His hands were clenched in white and trembling fists, as they started to sweat out of pain. His ears burnt, as they went deaf. His eyes were forcefully shut, as they shed blood tears. His stomach was upside down; he wanted to vomit again but couldn't. His lungs were panting even heavier than before. His heart was beating so fast and so hard, he could feel it against his panting chest. And his brain felt like it was about to explode.

Malfoy made the curse stop, and the pain ceased.

Harry panted so heavily; he needed some fresh air, and not that sticky thing that came in and out of his mouth and nose.

"W-What do you want from me?" He quickly asked, as he even coughed for air.

"Your death, Potter." He whispered, "And trust me, I won't kill you so easily. You'll have to _beg_ for it."

"I don't beg."

"Ha! We'll see about it, Potter." He mocked, danger echoing his voice. "We'll see how you don't beg after I've cruciated you ten more times. We'll see how you don't beg after I've cast a Sectumsempra on you. We'll see about how you manage to control yourself from begging me to kill you."

"Why would you do that?"

And all of a sudden, Draco exploded.

"Why?! Why!? You seriously are asking me why I'm fucking about to kill you?" The Blonde yelled, "Well, let me enlighten you, as you are as dumb as fuck: You didn't even know magic existed, and you were the most known child in the whole magical world. Every fucking teacher at school has always protected you, no matter what! Back in fourth year, Cedric fucking Diggory fucking died because of _you_, and no fucking teacher came to save him! But you! You were at the ministry of magic, and Albus fucking Dumbledore came to save you! Do you actually know what _I've_ been going through!? What _I_'m going though while you are always being oh-so-protected, oh-so-save!?"

"Malfoy-"

"SHUT UP!" He yelled even louder, "Well, let me tell you, Harry Potter! _I_ am a fucking pureblood that has been living in the same house as many fucking Death Eaters since his early childhood and there was _no fucking teacher to protect me_! Voldemort would come every known and again to fucking torture me, because, as he had always put it 'You can't let that Potter boy be better than you!'. And for fuck's sake, Potter, you have always been!"

"Malfoy, I–"

"I said, _SHUT UP!_ _Crucio!_"

"AAAAH!"

And again, Harry felt an unbearable pain. It got worse with every time Draco cursed him. After ten seconds, Malfoy lifted up the curse again. The Slytherin knelt down in front of the Gryffindor and looked deeply into his emerald eyes.

"Three months ago, Potter, I was forced to become a fucking Death Eater. It was either me becoming a Death Eater, or my family dying. So, against my will, I became one of them. And still, Potter, the Dark Lord had the fucking nerve to kill my mother in front of my eyes." He related, as he felt a tear running down his cheek.

"Voldemort has killed my mother, too, Malfoy." He said, "Don't you fucking think you're the only one who has experienced this kind of pain."

"What do _you_ know about pain, huh, Potter? What the fuck do you think you _know_ about _pain_?" He bitterly asked, "You may have lost your mother, but you don't have _memory_ to remember the day Lily Potter had been killed, because you still were a fucking baby. _That fucking murderer on the first floor killed my mother three months ago_. The same fucking murderer who ordered my father to reduce her into greyish ashes in front of my fucking eyes. _I,_ in comparison to you, will _always_ remember her and her fucking death. And you, you pathetic and undeserving piece of scum, will not."

There was a minute silence, in which Harry's heavy panting was to be heard. The Boy-Who-Lived had to admit: He was fucking scared. Malfoy scared him to death.

Draco continued.

"You asked me why I would kill you. The reason is simple, Potter: I've always been your fucking shadow. Whenever I'd do something, you'd do it better. And _I_ would suffer the Dark Lord's wrath. And honestly, I'm fucking tired of it. I'm fucking tired of _you_ being better and _me_ suffering the consequences. So the only solution is to kill you. And then, him."

Draco Malfoy stood up and pointed his wand at him.

"And I'm so tired, I want you to beg for me to you kill you. _Now_."

"–MALFOY, NO! WAIT!"

"WHAT!?"

"You said you wanted to kill Voldemort! I happen to know how to do it!" Harry quickly and desperately said, before he tested Draco's patience way too much, "Have you ever heard of the word 'Horcrux'? Well, those are objects, which contain Voldemort's soul, and in order to kill him, one would have to find each of these Horcruxes and destroy them. But Hermione has found out that there is a kind of a general Horcrux hidden at your manor. That Horcrux happens to be Herpo the Fool's Blood Letter. We could… I could be your ally, help you find that Horcrux so we can kill Voldemort! But please, Malfoy. Don´t do that. Don't make me beg for my death."

Draco started to laugh. His laugh was evil and bitter, and it scared Harry to no end.

"My Ally? Oh, good Lord, you're funny. I already happen to know where that bloody letter is. But, wait, don't tell me. Did she find Herpo the Fool's diary back at the library, Potter?"

Harry's eyes opened widely.

"What! How would you know!?"

Draco rolled his greyish eyes.

"Oh, dear Lord, how can you be so fucking stupid!" He yelled in exasperation, "Potter open your fucking eyes! I _knew_ my Hermione would be searching for information on the Blood Letter. And I _knew_ you two had to meet in order to discuss the Horcruxes' whereabouts. So since the silly coincidence that the _actual _Blood Letter _is_ in fact the general Horcrux that can kill Voldemort, I decided to make things easier for her, and easier for me."

"What do you mean, 'easier for you'?!"

"Potter, Potter, Potter…! Think! She surely told you about a myth, didn't she?"

Harry frowned. Yes, she did.

"The myth says that magic considers a witch and a wizard to be together for all eternity. Once the Blood Letter is in the hands of a wizard, with a name written on it, there is no turning back, both witch and wizard are to be bonded." He quoted.

"Exactly, Potter. Now, do you _really_ think she'd be so dumb to actually believe that story without any kind of background information? Please, of course she wouldn't. So she would search until she found something, _anything._ I made things easier for her as I placed Herpo the Fool's diary right in the bookshelf I knew she would take the book from, and gave her important information about how to kill the Dark Lord more easily. And as for me, I made things easier for me, as I knew she would _forget_ about the myth, once Herpo the Fool's diary fully occupied her mind."

"It has always been you."

"Yes, Harry Potter." He stated. "It has always been me. The one who has killed your precious best friend. The one who has poisoned you and Granger. The one who has made a Horcrux out of her, thus using my split soul and thus making her _officially mine_."

"She´s a fucking Horcrux!? _YOUR fucking Horcrux!?_" Harry yelled. "I'M GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU!"

Draco laughed at him, as he found a new nickname for Harry Potter: The-Boy-Who-Was-Stupid-As-Fuck.

"Ah… Ironic, Potter. Firstly, you don't have a wand, as I've taken it from you. Secondly, you're naked, tied up against a fucking wall and have been cruciated three times, meaning, you are _weak_. And thirdly, even if you wanted to kill me, you'd have to kill her _first_." He mocked, making a pouty face, "And you wouldn't want dear Hermione getting hurt, now, would you?"

"You bastard!"

"Nope, pureblood. _You_ are the bastard here, you Half-blood." Draco said, mocking him, "Besides, did you know that my Godfather was like, all over your mother, back at the time when she lived? Honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if one day came out that Snape's your actual father."

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!"

"You don't want to listen to me? Fine. I'll give you two choices, since I'm nice: It's either you asking me nicely to kill you or it's me using Sectumsempra on you until you fucking beg. And since you say you 'don't beg', I'd suggest you pick the first option. And then you won't have to listen to me. Otherwise, I'll keep provoking you until you get on my fucking nerves and I curse you into oblivion."

"I'm choosing none." He spat.

"As you wish." He calmly said, "But then you won't mind me telling you that I've caught Snape wanking over Lily like, a hundred times, right? Saying things like, 'Oh, Lily, you're so tight', or 'Oh, Lily, let me fuck you' –"

"SHUT UP!"

"You know what choices you have."

"NO!"

"I heard his moans and groans, as he touched himself and looked at your mother's picture. His cum was probably all spread over her red hair-"

"MALFOY, I'M WARNING YOU!"

"No, Potter, I'm warning _you_. You are starting to get on my nerves."

"THEN WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU WAITING FOR TO KILL ME!?"

"There, that's a good boy." Draco mocked, as he started to laugh dangerously, "The Boy-Who-Lived, Harry Potter. Any last words?"

"Voldemort will suspect of you, Malfoy. He'll know you've killed me. And then he will kill _you_."

"You´re wrong Potter. Once you're dead, once I reduce you into ashes, I'll apparate to my room and act normally. I won't even know you've existed. And when Death Eaters start wondering 'Oh, my, where is Harry Potter?' I'll tell them some big news: He escaped. He abandoned England. Then I'll He abandoned all of you. And then, you'll be remembered as Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Betrayed. And when I get to kill Lord Voldemort, Potter; _I_ will be regarded as a hero. And _I_ won't be hidden in your shadow any longer."

"No… No, please. You can't do that… Please…"

"Goodbye, Harry Potter."

"NO!"

"Goodbye."

"NO! NO!"

"_Avada Kedavra!_"

And then, once the bright green light hit Harry Potter's body, he closed his eyes and took his last breath.

And then, everything was silent.

~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~

**OMG NOOOOOOO! HE'S DEAD! I don't know if I can promise a happy ending, but I promise to give my best!**

**So, I hope you liked this chappie! **

**Favs and follows are very much appreciated! **

**AND REVIEWS TOOOOOO! THEY MAKE ME HAPPY AS HELL! :)))) **

**Thanks for reading guys, you rock! **

**Until next chappie! **


	20. Ticktack

**HEEEEYYY! :D So, here I am again **** I know I'm updating quite late these days, but I'm kind of stressed lately, sooooo… yeah. **

**Oh, yeah. I've been receiving really nice comments, with WONDERFUL ideas and some questions. To the question: Is Harry dead? Like, for real. You'll find out when you read this chapter. And as for Hermione, I´ve read a comment that said something like: let her do something, don't let her lose against Malfoy, she has to stay strong…! Yeah, I know. And don't you worry, I have something planned. Maybe it won't come out just **_**now**_**, but you'll see that Hermione isn't a weakling at all. **

**And… THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALL YOUR LOVELY FAVS, FOLLOW AND REVIEWS! THEY MADE ME HAPPY AS HELL! KEEP 'EM GOING! **

**Enjoy this chapter! **

**The Blood Letter**

**Chapter XIX: Ticktack.**

**~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…**

Harry opened his eyes: Everything was bright, maybe way too bright for his taste.

"Agh…" He coughed, "Am I dead?"

He stood up, slowly, trying to feel every muscle that had been hurt because of Malfoy's multiple Cruciatus curses. They seemed to be fine. He could stand, he could move: he could walk, he could run and he could jump.

Amazing, in a way.

Far in the distance, Harry saw the figure of a woman. He was sure he knew her. But just to prove his evidences, he decided to take a couple of steps closer, as his emerald eyes shot a closer look at the woman.

Red hair, skinny figure. No doubt. It was her.

"Mom?"

The woman turned around. Her eyes seemed to overwhelm him for a couple of seconds.

"Harry, my baby. You've been so strong, so brave. I'm so proud."

Her voice was so soft and tender, and it had been so long ever since Harry had heard her speak. He felt his eyes water.

"Mom…"

Harry was standing right in front of his mother, Lily Potter né Evans. Her beautiful red hair fell down her shoulders like waterfalls, and it combined beautifully with her bright smile. Their eyes met: They were identical. Emerald. Greenish emerald.

Harry ran towards his mother and gave her a right hug. She stroked his hair, as her other hand softly patted his back. And so Lily felt how his little boy started to let it go: He cried in her arms. All of his anger, anguish, and angst. His fears. His aggressions. He let it all out. And therefore, she smiled.

"Am I dead?" He asked again, with a sob.

Lily softly chuckled.

"Only if you choose to be."

Harry frowned, confused, as he cuddled into his mother's hug.

"What do you mean? Malfoy has just killed me!"

"No, Harry. He hasn't killed _you_. He has destroyed a part of Voldemort's soul." She explained, "17 years ago, Harry, Voldemort came to kill us. I decided to protect you with a strong spell, even if that meant giving up on my life. When the Killing Curse hit my body, the curse rebounded to Voldemort, and a part of his soul nested itself into the only living thing it could find: you yourself."

"-You mean that I… Am a Horcrux?"

Lily chuckled again.

"You _were_. _Now_ you're not. And I think you should thank Malfoy for that." Lily chuckled once more, this time, with more humor.

Harry frowned, as he asked again.

"Mom", he called, "Am I dead?"

Lily caressed his hair and pulled him closer to her once more. Two minutes later, she pulled away and looked deeply into his eyes. Her smile was soft, and her emerald eyes shone with tenderness.

"The question arises if you want to live. Do you have anything to live for, Harry?"

His best friend Hermione, he had save her. Ginny. All his other friends back at Hogwarts. Professor Dumbledore. Professor Slughorn. Professor McGonagall. Hagrid. And so many, many more…

But, yet again… did he truly _want_ to live? Come to think of it, Harry thought it maybe would be better now that he was dead. He would be with his people. With his parents and with Sirius, also with Ron and other friends. Plus, he wouldn't be taking part of that awful event; that awful magical battle. He would be… dead and… _free_.

And God, he knew that was the most egoistical freedom he could be wishing for. So, yeah. He didn't want to live. But he had so much to _live for_.

Harry sighed.

"Yeah… Lots of things, actually."

"And do you think they're worthy enough for you to live?"

"Definitely." Harry answered without hesitation.

"Then go, and live your life."

Lily caressed Harry's cheeks, as she said the exact same words she said the night Voldemort had come to kill her.

"Be brave, my boy. Harry, be safe. Harry, be strong. You're loved. You're so loved, Harry."

"Mom…"

And with a last kiss on the hair, Lily started to vanish.

And with that last kiss on his hair, Harry sighed and opened his eyes, just to find himself naked, and tied up against the wall.

"Oh well…" He sighed, "Here we go again…"

~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…

Draco Malfoy was now at a Death Eater's meeting. Once again, all Death Eaters were sitting on their respective places, their gazes focused on Lord Voldemort, who seemed to be rather sick. He looked like he had lost an enormous amount of power: He was heavily breathing; almost panting, and as all of his followers had noticed as the Dark Lord came into the room, he couldn't walk in a straight position.

He had weakened. A lot. And casually, Draco Malfoy happened to know _why_. But of course, he wouldn't dare tell. And he wouldn't dare smirk, either.

The Dark Lord sat down on his chair, as one of his hands held up on his chest.

Before anyone asked, the Dark Lord spoke:

"I feel weak. It seems to be…" He panted, "…That Potter is finding his way to destroy me, my loyal servants. But… Do not fear. When it all ends, he's going to be dead and I will conquer the world."

Draco had to pull himself together so he didn't smirk. Oh, sweet irony. Firstly, Potter didn't find the way to destroy Voldemort; rather, Draco had found his way to destroy Potter. Secondly, Voldemort would _not_ conquer the world. And thirdly, by the time Voldemort would have planned conquering the world, he would be already dead, thus claiming Draco Malfoy as the brand new Dark Lord; the most powerful wizard of all times.

_Sweetest irony._

But Severus just _had_ to open his mouth, hadn't he?

"But, my Lord, the Battle is about to break out. Tonight, Draco will have to lead all of us into the Castle, and then-"

"-And then he'll kill Albus Dumbledore." Voldemort finished for him. "Now, Severus. I don't see any issue in doing that."

"My Lord, with all my respects, you're feeling too weak for this. Maybe we could postpose the Battle until you feel-"

"–Better? More powerful?" The Dark Lord smirked, as he rapidly took his wand out of his pocket and pointed at one of his Death Eaters _"AVADA KEDAVRA!"_

All of Voldemort's followers turned themselves to see. It had been Dolohov: Half of his body lay now on the table, completely inert. Voldemort didn't even seem to care, as he twirled his wand between his fingers with a hand, and caressed his precious Nagini with the other one.

"You were saying, my dear Severus?"

"I beg for your apologies." He said with all neutrality he had, "Never mind me, Sir."

"Very well." Voldemort answered, with a rather pleased tune, "Now, as I was saying… Our youngest member, Draco Malfoy, will lead us into the castle and he will kill Dumbledore. Meanwhile, all others will be searching for all mudbloods and will kill them. And during that time, I will search for Harry Potter and finally kill him. And all of this will happen tonight. Am I understood?"

Draco was the only one that didn't nod. Luckily, the Dark Lord didn't see it.

~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~

Severus Snape was wandering around Malfoy Manor, searching for Draco. His reason? Simple. He had to tell him that it wasn't entirely _his_ mission to kill Dumbledore, but it was _Snape's_. Severus would have to give him explanations about his very long conversations with Dumbledore, and he knew Draco had to know about it before dawn broke. The only problem was that sheesh!, that boy wasn't to be found anywhere! Where was he hiding?

Snape humorlessly chuckled at the thought? Him, hide? A psychopathic murderer, _hide_? From his very own godfather, who actually was under his control? Now, that was a bit contradictive, wasn't it? But yet again, maybe that was one of his sick games to test his nerves. The Professor sighed out in grumpiness. His blonde godson really did have a fucking nerve.

He wandered and wandered, and still didn't find him. Until, after an hour, he remembered where Draco liked to play most when he was just still a little child. The dungeons of course!

Snape had never understood Draco's fascination for the Dungeons, as they were dark, cold and kind of wet – It just wasn't the right place for a little boy to play. Maybe it was the right place for a little boy his age to be grounded, but definitely _not_ the right place to play.

"Oh well." He just sighed. "Let's just get this over with."

And with that, his steps started to lead Snape down into the dark dungeons.

"_Lumos!"_

As the light came out from the tip of his wand, Severus fastened his pace, as he thought he had seen the silhouette of a person deep inside the darkness.

"Draco, I know you have always liked this place, but for God's sake-"

Indeed he had.

"–Potter!?"

"Professor Snape!" Harry yelled, "Please, help me! Help me!"

~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…

Draco apparated himself back to Hogwarts as soon as the meeting had finished.

SHIT!

Time was running.

_Ticktack, Ticktack, Ticktack!_

And he had to hide his Princess in a safe place before he had to lead all of Voldemort's servants into Hogwarts. But time was fucking flying!

_Ticktack, Ticktack, Ticktack!_ _Ticktack, Ticktack, Ticktack!_

FUCK!

Draco apparated himself at the Hospital Wing; his grey orbits desperately searching for Hermione.

_Nothing._

His legs started to run as fast as they could, as his eyes kept searching for his sweetness. He had to find her, and it had to be soon. She didn't know, but right then, it wasn't everything just about her life, but also about _his_. If a fucking Death Eater killed her, that very same fucking Death Eater would be killing him _too_. And for fuck's sake, after all the work he'd done in order to have her, he wasn't about to let Voldemort overcome his fucking masterpiece.

_Not by a fucking chance. _

And so, the blonde Slytherin kept running, and running, and running. He had been at the library: she wasn't there. He had apparated into the Gryffindor Tower, he had apparated himself into her room, and still nothing: She wasn't there. Cursing, he apparated himself right in front of the closed door of the Great Hall, and, without thinking, he entered the huge room in a rush, and so his eyes finally caught her sight.

And right then, everything turned upside down for Draco Malfoy.

Everything had been done without thinking: He had called her name. She had turned around. He had taken his wand out of his pocket, as he pointed at her. Her chocolate eyes had opened widely, as she gasped. She felt her heart beat furiously.

_Lub-dub, lub-dub, lub-dub, lub-dub! Lub-dub, lub-dub, lub-dub, lub-dub! _

He had casted a Desmaius on her, and so her body started falling onto the ground. He ran towards her as fast as he could, catching her while she fell. She was now in his arms, unconscious. He apparated away with her, ordering Horace Slughorn to follow him before the blonde vanished. And so Horace Slughorn did.

Everything had been done without thinking, as time had been fucking flying. Ticktack, ticktack. Everything had been done in front of all students of Hogwarts, as time had been fucking flying. Ticktack, ticktack. And right then, everything turned upside down for Draco Malfoy.

For the very first time in three months, Draco Malfoy felt his heart race out of fear and nervousness.

_Lub-dub, lub-dub, lub-dub, lub-dub! Lub-dub, lub-dub, lub-dub, lub-dub! Lub-dub, lub-dub, lub-dub, lub-dub! _

Somehow he knew that his masterpiece was starting to break into thousands of tiny pieces.

And all because of lack of time.

_Ticktack, ticktack, ticktack…_

~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~…~

**YES! FINALLY, FINALLY, FINALLY, FINALLY FUCKING FINALLY! CHAPTER 19! **

**I'm SO SO SO SO SO SO SO SO SO SO FUCKING SORRY I updated SO FUCKING LATE. Really, please, FORGIVE MEEEEE! **

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**I hope you liked this chappie! **

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